Winters Mya — Abby

“I have more than that.” Mya pushed a folded napkin across the table. “I have a confession.”

Come find me in the static, Mya whispered to the empty booth. And remember who you were before they made you forget. abby winters mya

“Then we’ll die together,” Mya finished, her sea-storm eyes unblinking. “Which is more honest than most partnerships, don’t you think?” “I have more than that

“I’m careful,” Abby replied, shrugging off her coat. Underneath, she wore a simple black sweater. No jewelry, no identifiers. Mya, in contrast, wore a chunky turquoise ring that seemed to catch the dim light and hold it hostage. “Then we’ll die together,” Mya finished, her sea-storm

“Careful is for amateurs,” Mya said, finally meeting her gaze. A small, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips. “Professionals are just… prepared.”

But she was a professional. And professionals knew that trust was a luxury, but a common enemy was a currency.

“I’m the one who wiped them,” Mya said softly. “I was the asset. Before I burned my own handler. I’ve been running from them ever since.” She tapped the napkin. “The location is the old Ferris wheel on the pier. Midnight. They think the height provides a clean signal. And I’m giving you the access codes because I can’t stop them alone.”