![]() ![]() “You wanted to know who’d killed your wife.” “Tek,” he greeted the man on the other end with a familiarity he was relieved to not have to fake. She didn’t say goodbye, all he heard was a soft click indicating the call had transferred. Curiosity made him tell her, “Put him through.” “❻ueno?” He listened, head tilted back, eyes closed as she spoke only the impending caller’s name. The woman who’d answer would redirect to whatever burner Daniel had at the time, but only if she deemed the caller worthy. ![]() ![]() But there was a certain number one could call, should they want to reach him. The amount of people with the number didn’t even total five. The small burner phone he’d placed on his right thigh vibrated, making his skin tingle, breaking the monotony of silence for a few unwelcomed seconds. On a night so dark, only the sporadic spark of fireflies dotted the blackness where he sat outside on the porch while his memories died slowly inside the Greek-style house. One of those nights when Daniel Nieto didn’t sleep, when heat clung to the air, sending moisture dripping down his spine under the shirt he wore. ![]()
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