The yard had gone abnormally quiet.
The sun came down hard on my bare back and I held my breath and moved only my eyes, checking the three of them for the head-turn that meant it was over. Sweat ran in a thin line down my spine and pooled at the waistband of my underwear. The dirt under my feet was hot and fine.
They didn't hear it.
I stayed in the squat with the keys closed in my fist. The metal was warm against my palm, the ring pressing a small circle into the skin.
My eyes went to the door. Venna's face in the gap, tight with tension, her whole body forward, one hand already half-extended as if she could pull the distance shorter by wanting it.
You've got them. Come back.
I read it off her mouth and stood up.
And the bundle swung in my hand and struck itself again—soft, bright, metal on metal, a second small chime that should never have been enough.
I knew what that meant before the sound had finished.
