(Bryce)
I sat across from Vance in the back of a small bar. The lights were dim, the kind of yellow glow that made every shadow look bigger than it was. The air smelled of old beer and smoke that had soaked into the wood.
“You need money. I have work. Simple as that,” he said.
I nodded, even though I didn’t really trust him. “What kind of work?”
“Follow someone. Watch where they go, who they meet. Report back to me. You’ve done this before so it's not new to you.”
“Yes,” I said. My throat felt dry, but I kept my voice even. “You already know that.”
“Good,” Vance said. His stare didn’t blink. “Then it should be easy. Stay quiet, stay close, and don’t get caught.”
I wanted to ask more, why this person, what Vance really wanted, but his eyes told me not to push. He slid an envelope acr
