We stopped in front of a small door hidden behind a dumpster. Giovanni knocked three times, and the door swung open to reveal a narrow stairway leading down into darkness.
I hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I just know that he’s supposed to be here in the city.” Searching for- Marco in-
The barista’s expression changed, and she leaned in close. “Marco?” she repeated, her voice low. “Which Marco?” We stopped in front of a small door hidden behind a dumpster
“I’m looking for Marco,” I said, feeling a surge of excitement. m not sure