the smuggler’s bible


“I didn’t know if you’d make it in time.”

Juliet lies still. Her short leather jacket is folded under her head and her black tanto knife is strapped to her right thigh. A palm rests lightly on the cord-wrapped handle. Sweat stands out on her forehead. Eyes flicker rapidly beneath eyelids, left and right, irises spinning—focus, focus, focus.

“I didn’t know,” he’d said on the beach, “if you’d make it in time.” How long was Rumble alone with Kyomori? A few minutes, maybe. Fifteen? Twenty? She’d asked for five.

So at what point did his faith finally run out?