CHAPTER 2: Vanessa Points First

Vanessa Caine moved faster than security.
She appeared beside the young man in a red-striped apron, polished hair pulled tight, one finger already lifted like a warning. Vanessa ran the market floor for the Whitmore family, and she believed kindness was acceptable only after paperwork approved it.
'You cannot wander here,' she said. 'This is private vendor space.'
The young man turned toward her. He did not argue. That made her sharper.
'Customers are eating,' she continued. 'Go to the shelter entrance if you need help.'
A few people watched, relieved that someone else had decided how much compassion was required. The young man swallowed once, eyes moving past Vanessa to the row of cooking stalls. He looked less ashamed than tired of being reduced to a problem.
Daniel put down his tongs. He knew that tone. It was the sound of a person protecting a room from guilt by calling it policy.