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"I swear," he says. "I wasn't," he says. "There's a tek market on seventy-two. That's why I had the bag."
"A tek market?"
He's not shaking, he's vibrating.
"Yeah. Thursdays. Out back of Blue Fry's."
"Is that what they're calling the fucking fire escape these days?" Del snorts.
"Shortcut."
She holds up a hand and Del stops mid haul-off.
"No," she says. "Just hold him. You too, Eph."
She dips in through the bag's broken zip and comes up thumbing the screen of something or other.
"Some nice gear here. New looking. You were gonna sell all of this?"
"It's not that new. I could get better. And and then I could work better. Faster."
"Keen on that huh. You always seemed kind of…"
She makes like she is fumbling for the right word while she looks him over, pale and lost in his puke-orange t-shirt. Every stage of bruise coming out the neck and the sleeves. His fingers chewed scabby at the nails. They are making her mouth fill with spit. She drops the gadget.
"…ambivalent."
"I'm not. I swuh I swear on my-"
She cocks an eyebrow. Careful.
"-I mean. I want to."
"Work faster?"
Nod.
"And be better?"
Nod nod nod. She strokes his face.
"Well. If you're sure."
Hope bobs up in his eyes. Just for a second.