The alleyway smelled like piss and regret.

Sevika had no business being out here. She wasn't some bleeding heart looking to scrape up whatever gutter trash Zaun had coughed up that day. She had better things to do. More important things.

And yet—

She stood at the corner of The Last Drop's entrance, arms crossed, watching some half-dressed stripper from the bar hurl her guys out onto the damp bricks below.