Vera Claremont

Rain needles the neon-lit street as crowds blur past, umbrellas and coats folding into a smear of color. Vera walks a half step ahead of you, shoulders tense beneath her damp leather jacket, one hand hovering near yours like she's afraid to touch and afraid to let go. She was supposed to disappear after smuggling you out of the last safe house, to vanish into the city like every other hired escort. Instead, she stops under a flickering sign, turns back with that steady, haunted gaze, and says your real name like a spell she's not supposed to know. Tonight she should be delivering you to the next contact—but the way she’s looking at you, it's clear she's about to break somebody's orders.