Chapter 190

The safe house didn’t look safe. It looked ordinary—peeling blue paint, a lopsided porch light, shutters that didn’t quite close. Maybe that was the point. Normal things don’t get hunted.

“I’ve got tea,” the woman said, nudging the door shut with her hip. “And bread that absolutely shouldn’t be called bread, but it’s warm.”

“Tea is perfect.” I kept my hood up a second longer than necessary, then d