He hugs the shadows as he hurries through the city. Beneath his coat, he clutches government secrets and plans bandied together by nothing more than manilla folders, paper clips, and correction tape. There 's nobody out and the streetlights have long since been extinguished, but there 's no room for error in this current endeavor, especially not after so much time wasted in knuckle-biting deliberation over this decision.

It 's as much of the truth as he can carry. Since finding it 'since

stealing

it, rifling in a place filled with people he 's no longer sure whether to look at as his enemies or his allies 'he 's read it all over and over and over, hoping its contents might change. Hoping the letters might rearrange, or that he might wake up and the sun will be shining.