Chapter Two: The Price of One Person

His smile cracked. The shopkeeper moved one bead on an abacus. “Payment settled. Property returned. One seat voided.” The lights failed. Lin smelled caramel tobacco. Someone brushed past her shoulder. When the lights returned, only eight tourists and Jonas occupied the shop. “Who was at the counter?” Lin asked. Mia stared at her. “No one. We just arrived.” The blue velvet tray was empty. Lin could not find Roman's name in her mind, only a polished blank. Yet her hand still formed a grip, and one strand of gray wool clung to her palm. Outside, the coach's second-row seat was smooth. There was no glass of water. Eight cases remained underneath, and Jonas's manifest listed eight guests.