When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Chapter Fourteen Rabia Rabia was getting impatient. She had been to all of Alain’s usual haunts, flashing the Corporate logos on her jumpsuit as much as possible, but there was no sign of him. She tried approaching some of the urchins she was certain were runners for the gangs, but they bolted when she came near or simply refused to acknowledge that she was speaking to them. At last she found herself in the alley behind the butcher’s, standing at the base of the rickety staircase the new tenants had built. She put her foot on the first step but changed her mind, turning and walking briskly away, hands deep in the pockets of her jumpsuit. It was just that she missed it. She missed how it felt to push herself to make the drops lower, the punches snappier. She missed having something besid