Exposed

Lara's hand remained hidden beneath her jacket, but in the next instant, four small objects whizzed through the air, their trajectory arcing straight toward the curly-haired man.

Two oval-shaped projectiles struck him just below the nape, sending a jolt through his spine. The third found its mark on the wounded spot atop his head, causing him to stumble, his cry of pain echoing through the street. The final one slammed into the back of his right knee, forcing him into an awkward half-kneel as he howled in agony.

"Brother, look. Now, there are four of them." The little girl's voice held nothing but innocent curiosity as she crouched, gathering the fallen seriguelas at her feet, seemingly unaffected by the man's tortured groans.

Her brother turned, his eyes meeting Lara's. There was something fleeting in his gaze—recognition, perhaps even gratitude—before he turned back to his sister and ruffled her curly hair.