Months later, Elijah returned to the Riverside Market. He rolled through the automatic glass doors, the familiar click, click, click of his leather gloves echoing against the rims. He navigated to the cooler, grabbed a bottle of alkaline water, and paid at the register.
He didn't look over his shoulder. He had audited the system, found its fatal flaws, and forced a correction. Elijah Vance rolled out into the California sun, precise, unharmed, and undeniably vindicated.