She returned her focus to the street. Winter was just around the corner, and it would bring frigid air, ice, and snow. For now, though, the cool of the evening was pleasant, so the sidewalks were still somewhat crowded. People weren’t yet running to and fro, cursing the arctic temperatures while scraping windshields or shoveling out cars plowed in by equipment, bulky and yellow. Instead, they meandered about, returning to their homes after a long day at work or exiting in search of food and drink, all the while mesmerized by their cell phones as if the tiny screens held the meaning of life.

Bennett set off down the street, a walk she’d taken hundreds of times over the past several years. She was familiar with every road and every house, and even those living behind bricked walls weren’t strangers. No formal introductions had ever been made, but she knew them nonetheless, so as she continued her walk, her eyes never stopped darting from one person to the other. That one belonged, and so did the next, and the group on the street corner was familiar as well. And then she noticed someone not familiar. Khaki trousers, a navy pea coat with an insignia on the breast, and a scarf, plaid and pressed, belonged to a young man stepping out of a cab. His haircut was trendy, and his cheeks, rosy and smooth, and by the way he was nervously looking all around, Bennett wondered why he hadn’t simply worn a placard announcing his intention.

With his head bowed, the youthful up-and-comer shuffled to the crosswalk. The light changed, and he scurried to the other side of the street while Bennett remained behind. She didn’t need to follow yet. He was on a mission, as was she. Occasionally casting half-glances in his direction, Bennett drifted along, biding her time. It didn’t take long.

The prep school delinquent ducked into an alley, and pulling up the hood on her coat, Bennett jogged across the road. She paused at the entrance to the murky pathway for only a few seconds before she slipped into the blackness. Alleys were plentiful in the area. Some were broad and used by landlords to store their dumpsters and residents to park their cars, and while not well lit, the porch lights mounted near back entries cast enough light for people to see their way. This one, however, was cramped and inky. Barely wide enough for two to walk shoulder-to-shoulder, it was cluttered with empty bottles, rain-soaked boxes, and assorted discarded household items, and as Bennett stepped between the buildings, she stopped. The luminosity of the streetlights ended only a few feet into the alley, and the rest was pitch-dark save for one naked bulb twenty yards away hanging from one of the brick buildings.