Thick dreadlocks were pulled back off her forehead by a red bandanna. Tiny white diamonds danced across the fabric. Dust splashed up the sweat pants and the bottom half of the jean jacket, embedded by time and wear. A strap hung off her shoulder and disappeared behind her back. I had seen all that before but it was her eyes that set her apart. She looked at me like I was already dead. There wasn’t judgment in her eyes but there wasn’t compassion either.

I waited patiently as she stared a hole into my face.

Two moths flew in lazy circles just under the overhead light. Somehow they kept a safe distance, just short of becoming a pair of torches.

Finally, she nodded to herself as if I had passed some test. Reaching back she unbuckled the strap and placed a long square case on the desk between us. Her fingers tightened around it. “This will cancel the debt between us?” she asked with disbelief.

“If it is what you told my men it is.”

“Why?”

“Because men need to believe in something—now more than ever.”