Garou's shoulders ached. A full day of hauling furniture for Beavers Mover would do that to a guy. He rolled his neck, the joints popping in a way that would've made Bang scold him for slouching.

That's when he saw them.

A familiar silhouette under the flickering streetlamp. Standing there like they'd been waiting, or just lost in thought, or maybe just as surprised as he was. Their face was half-lit, shadows carving out familiar features he hadn't seen in years.