That was the worst moment. She could smell the food. She could see the alley. But she could also see the police cars, the uniforms, the windows filled with faces, the city pressing around her like a trap. Then a child cried somewhere beyond the tape. Mara flinched hard. Her body swung toward the street. The police captain’s hand moved instinctively toward his sidearm, not drawing it, but close enough for Elias to notice.
“No,” Elias said, quiet and firm. “Nobody moves.” He stepped backward toward the crate, dragging the bucket along the pavement. Apple slices spilled behind him in a small, deliberate trail. Mara dropped from the last branch with a heavy thud that shook the ground beneath his boots. For a second, she stood less than ten yards away. Every instinct in Elias wanted to step toward her, but he knew better. Mara needed space, calm, and a clear direction. She sniffed the first apple slice. Then, step by step, she followed him into the alley.