Round 7

The grocer woman's phone remained raised, capturing their faces in the streetlight as she pressed for answers. The device was a sleek modern model, its camera lens glinting like an eye—an unblinking witness to this standoff.

Jeane felt her wings twitch beneath the cloak, too many witnesses already. She forced herself still, focusing on the woman before them. "Family problems?" she repeated, voice dripping with false concern. "Oh honey, we're just trying to help a friend through a tough time—"

The grocer's expression didn't soften. "This isn't helping," she said flatly. "This is recruiting." Her thumb hovered over the phone screen, ready to call someone or post something online. The amber glow illuminated her strong jaw and skeptical eyes.

Silra shifted her weight subtly, muscles coiled beneath modern streetwear. She'd been so close to finding a secure entry point into Julia's life—now this stranger was threatening to unravel everything with one poorly timed video. Her bright teal eyes flicked between the grocer and Jeane, calculating angles.

Jeane knew they couldn't afford another witness. The sigils beneath her gloves burned hotter, but unleashing them here would be disastrous—they were meant for private seduction, not street-level coercion where any passerby could see. She took a slow step forward instead, voice lowering to something more intimate. "You don't understand," she began, "what we're doing here is—"

"Stop right there." The grocer's hand came up defensively, palm out. Her other hand kept the phone steady, finger still hovering over its surface. "I don't know what cult you're running or what kind of scam this is, but I'm not interested in joining your little club."

The word 'cult' hung in the air between them like a physical barrier. Silra felt her stomach drop—this woman wasn't just suspicious, she was actively investigating them now. The casual observer stance had backfired spectacularly; instead of dismissing them as harmless weirdos, she'd escalated to potential criminal activity.

Jeane's eyes narrowed fractionally behind the cloak's shadow. She couldn't risk exposure, but violence would only make things worse—this grocer wasn't alone anymore. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed from around the corner, another pedestrian heading their way. Time was running out for a clean solution.