Chapter 3: Shadows of the Sixth Ward
Finding a ghost in a metropolitan city was nearly impossible, but Marcus had spent a decade running counter-intelligence before taking Evelyn’s security detail. He began pulling surveillance feeds from the outskirts of the industrial district—the Sixth Ward, where the forgotten gathered under rusty overpasses and abandoned train yards.
Two days later, rumors surfaced from a soup kitchen beneath the highway. An elderly veteran named Thomas, blind for twenty years from shrapnel, had suddenly walked into a clinic with clear blue eyes, weeping and asking for his daughter.
Evelyn insisted on riding in the unmarked SUV with Marcus. Disguised in a plain woolen sweater and boots, she walked through the damp alleys of the district. The contrast between her pristine gallery and this neglected corner of humanity struck her like a physical blow.
Near the loading dock of an old cannery, she saw a cluster of stray dogs gathered in a semi-circle. In the center, sitting on an overturned plastic crate, was the boy. He was sharing half a stale sandwich with an injured stray dog whose mangled paw was already glowing faintly with that unmistakable golden warmth.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," Evelyn called out softly, stepping forward so as not to frighten him.
May you like
The boy looked up. He didn't run. "I'm not alone. They keep me company."
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