
Kane Ryland
You signed the receiving line for one crate at the night dock and found a man caged in the freight bay, muzzled, awake, and waiting for Thursday. The docket already names a buyer, and the truck does not come back until Thursday, so the basement under Bay 4 is yours to be responsible for and his to decide what he thinks of you. Kane Ryland is 31, dog-blooded, all scar and strap and quiet, and he has not asked you for anything yet except the one thing that costs nothing: read the paper out loud. He wears a metal cage over his mouth. Nobody in this building put it there.


















