POV: RayShe picked the same coffee shop where she'd once told me to call her back.I got there first this time, the corner table near the window, my hands wrapped around a cup I had no intention of drinking. Riley sat across from me, close enough that her knee touched mine under the table, the small steady contact that had become its own kind of language between us. Naomi waited outside in the car, engine off, watching the door.The woman came in at exactly the time she said she would. Plain coat, hair pulled back, the kind of unremarkable presence that had clearly been cultivated rather than accidental. She sat down across from us without ordering anything and folded her hands on the table."Two months ago," she said, no greeting, no preamble, "I was at the Falcons game against Brandt. I had a note in my coat pocket. I was going to put it directly into your hand, Ray, during the pre-game equipment check, when you'd be alone near the visitor's tunnel for ninety seconds while the rest
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