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Silas felt the hollow under the table like a pulse. The vial was there, quiet and present. He felt his choice like heat in his veins.

Silas smiled without humor. Midnight was an hour he had a history with. The faro board—its rows and pegs, the tiny brass numbers—blinked like a mechanical conscience. At the table were three others besides him: Harlan, the crooked foreman of the riverboats; June, a woman who smoked like she inhaled problems and exhaled solutions; and Theo, a kid with quick fingers and quicker feet, who’d been selling matches on corners since he could tie his own shoes. faro scene crack full

June laughed, a dry scrap of sound. “Colder after you lose.” Silas felt the hollow under the table like a pulse

“No,” Silas said. His voice didn’t waver. Silas smiled without humor