Nash left the hotel and walked straight into the Underground night. He flagged a taxi, the driver barely glancing at him before rolling off through the slums.
He tapped the driver's shoulder when the market came into view, the cab stopping under a blue sign. Nash stepped out into the narrow shop crammed with cheap clothes, picking a plain black hoodie and dark joggers that fit him, along with socks and boxers.
At the counter, he spotted a thin silver necklace with a small breakball pendant and added it to the pile for Zayela before heading back to the cab with his bags beside him, watching the slums pass again until the driver slowed on gravel outside their building.
Nash paid, took his stuff, and climbed the stairs two at a time.
He walked up the stairs to their floor, keys jingling in his hand.
He stopped in front of the door, looked at the old metal key, and almost laughed at himself.
