He looked it over—dry, quiet, half-shielded from the wind. Lucky curled up immediately. Joshua dropped his bag behind the crates and sat with his legs out, arms crossed. His shoes were soaked again. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t a place to be comfortable. It was a place to disappear.
Across the street, a broken light flickered over a door that led into a backlot. Beside it, a narrow alley cut between two buildings. No security cams. No movement. Joshua stared at it for a while. Just a shortcut, probably. But something about it made him uneasy. He looked away.