The next house was on the other side of town and was the extreme opposite of the first place, being a large, majestic home on a busy beach among other luxury homes. Arrin would’ve preferred to rent this house, but he knew it would be too risky. All it would take was for one of the many people milling around to recognize him and his freedom would abruptly end.

He called the owner of the first house and arranged for a bicycle courier to meet him at the house with a month-to-month rental contract and the house’s key card, after which he disposed of the phone. When the courier showed, he signed the contract as John Lostman, handed it back along with the agreed-upon fee for the deposit and first month’s rent, and generously tipped the boy.

As the courier rode away smiling...

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