Callum haunted a 24-hour cafe in stolen shoes and considered who might want him snared or dead.

The first grenade came through the open window. Callum hadn’t opened it.

In this small space where everyone was aware of him, and where Mari could talk to him without fear of looking like she was addressing a ghost, her gaze still glanced off him. She kept him in her periphery or reflected in the bathroom mirror. “You ready?”

Marielena was the crucial first node in the network of connections Callum’s life depended on. The first to introduce him to another person. The only person in his life he’d never needed to be introduced to. The all-important first and only exception to the rule.

He rifled efficiently through the new arrival’s purse. It would be best to get it back into their bag before they realised it had gone, to avoid problems later.

“I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for it,” said Marielena, “but I want to introduce you to my brother.”