[Jake's POV]
The streets of the Outer Harbour were unrecognizable compared to a month ago.
I walked down the Avenida de Amizade with Ethan, the mid-morning sun burning off the coastal fog. The fog didn't lift all at once. It tore in pieces. It hung in the air like wet gauze, then the sun cut through it and it vanished. Where it brushed my face it was cold and damp. Thirty seconds later my skin was dry and warm.
The heavy, oppressive atmosphere of fear that used to choke the district was gone. You could feel it in your lungs. Before, the air felt thick. Like you were breathing through something dirty. Now it was clean. It smelled like salt from the harbor, fresh bread from a bakery, and exhaust from the first buses of the day.
