It was early morning, so Jason went home first. His mother ran to him when he walked in.

"Where have you been?" she grabbed his shoulders. "It's been a week!"

"I was getting a new heart," Jason replied, glowering slightly. "With the blood money." His mother winced.

"Please, Jason," she begged. "Don't keep selling drugs."

"It's good money, mom. I won't have to worry about falling behind. I could make your payments, too."

She shook her head.

"I can't stop you from paying for yourself, but I will not use that money."

"But mom—"

"I have to go," she walked past him out the door, leaving him alone in the house.

When the sun went down, Jason sprinted to the alley, feeling a sense of freedom he had never known before. He made it to the alley out of breath and walked slowly through it, looking for Shadow.

"You shouldn't be running so soon, you'll overstress your new heart."

Jason looked up, searching for the source of the voice. Hearing movement, he turned just in time to see Shadow land lightly beside him. "Welcome back," she greeted. "Do you still want to sell, or are you here to tell me goodbye?"

"I still want to," he assured her. She smiled.

"In that case, come. I'm low again."

They crossed the city to the mass graves for the second time. Shadow handed him the syringe and helped him fill the first vial, then let him continue alone. As they went, he remembered the hospital's Zydrate.

"Why is the Z in the hospital different?"

Shadow handed him an empty vial.

"The Zydrate doctors use isn't pure. They add water and some other chemicals, which makes it more of a sleeping pill than a pain killer."

Thinking about the hospital made him aware of the pain in his chest. He rubbed the wound, wincing.

"Ignore it, just think about the vials," Shadow instructed. "You don't want to be weak and give in to the pain. The glow is an expensive habit."

Jason nodded and finished filling the vials. Back across the city they went, and again Jason watched as Shadow sold. At the end of the night they split up the money.

"Do you make this much every night?" he breathed, amazed as he redid the math. Shadow nodded. "I could pay GeneCo off in six months!" Suddenly he realized something. "If you make so much money, why do you sleep in a dumpster?" She smiled gently, as though trying not to be condescending.

"My face is on wanted signs all over the city," she reminded him. "I can't exactly go rent an apartment."

"So what do you do with the money?" he asked.

"Maybe I'll show you some day," she offered. "Right now, though, you should go home. Like I said before, it's dangerous to be here during the day. Especially in my company."

Jason nodded and turned, running home.

Over the next few months, they fell into a routine. Jason learned how to collect Zydrate faster, but Shadow was still much better and took over when they were in a rush. He continued to watch her sell and was beginning to understand the nuances of the business. He paid off much of his debt and persisted in trying to convince his mother to pay off hers as well. She refused every time, though she was falling behind. Jason fretted to himself, but did his best to keep his worry from Shadow. His biggest fear was for her to call him "weak" for any reason. The healing ache of his chest became worse, but he heeded her warning and stayed away from Zydrate, knowing that the pain would pass.

And as the days elapsed, Jason learned more and more about Shadow. He admired her stealth and her way with the customers. (He no longer thought of them as junkies.) He admired her rebelliousness, her disdain for the superficial scalpel sluts who changed their appearance every day. He admired her intelligence, the way she seemed to know everything about everybody. And as time went on, he began to admire her beauty. She had flawless, porcelain skin, striking features, and a body that scalpel sluts longed to have. And the fact that her beauty was natural in this city of surgery made it all the more wondrous. But as beautiful as he thought she was, he wouldn't allow himself to think about her looks; she looked down so much on shallow attraction.

He walked home early one morning, debating whether he should tell her how he felt, when he realized the door of his apartment was wide open. Confused, he stepped through the door. There was blood on the floor. He walked into the next room and froze.

His mother's body was on the ground. Her chest was ripped open. Her ribs had been broken off to get at her lungs, which were missing. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, her mouth open in a silent scream. Jason stumbled backward, fell, then stood and darted back to the alley as fast as he could.