Hardx.23.01.28.savannah.bond.wetter.weather.xxx... Today

“I could go back,” Bond said, voice low. “Abort. Hand it to the authorities.”

“You know her?” Savannah asked.

Outside, the storm convened. It had a bureaucratic patience now, like an auditor counting losses with methodical hands. Somewhere distant, a siren rose and fell. The news kept talking about anomalies with an expert’s cadence, naming probabilities in a voice that sought to comfort by the sheer thrust of statistics. HardX.23.01.28.Savannah.Bond.Wetter.Weather.XXX...