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There was a big mural outside the Phoenix Effect coffeehouse that caught Xara's eye. If someone asked her, she'd say it was the colors, or the shapes, or the general energy of the piece, or the novelty of seeing public art that hadn't been immediately tagged (this was a very different world than L.A.).
But it wasn't any of that.
Xara understood it on a deep, inborn sort of level. The imagery, the references, the intent, she knew them. Knew these people.
She hated it.
None of that was on her face as she stood looking at the mural, though, looking calm and thoughtful as she sipped an iced latte, and waited.
But it wasn't any of that.
Xara understood it on a deep, inborn sort of level. The imagery, the references, the intent, she knew them. Knew these people.
She hated it.
None of that was on her face as she stood looking at the mural, though, looking calm and thoughtful as she sipped an iced latte, and waited.