Chapter 268: Ranked Streets and Rooftop Tea
Charlie was out cold.
The kind of sleep only kids and the deeply exhausted could manage—mouth slightly open, one sock off, cheek pressed to my shoulder. I adjusted my grip slightly, keeping one arm steady beneath his legs and the other behind his back. He didn’t stir. His tablet, now inactive and covered in dinosaur doodles, was tucked under my arm like contraband.
The apartment was quiet behind me. Camille and Sienna had taken to cleaning without being asked, Evelyn had gone back to her room, and Alexis was deep in prep for her scan. It was the most peace we’d had in weeks.
But peace wasn’t portable. I had to carry it.
The city felt different at night.
My boots tapped down clean marble as I stepped out of the tower lobby, careful not to wake the boy in my arms. A-Rank zones were made to be quiet. Everything had sound-dampening panels, privacy fences, polished steel and shimmer-glass. Every car was electric, every pedestrian quiet, as if noise itself had been taxed out of existence. Lights came from underground fixtures instead of street lamps. A-Rank zones didn’t just look expensive—they looked curated. Like someone had trimmed and filtered the entire world.
I flagged a transport. The capsule was black, windowless, government-insured. The driver didn’t ask questions—just scanned my ID and nodded, eyes widening slightly at the Jobmaster title. I gave him Charlie’s address.
"Sector 50, C-Rank border," he noted.
"Drive slow," I said. "He’s sleeping."
The vehicle moved like it was gliding on breath.
D-Rank neighborhoods were next.