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... nst the pavement.

The only light came from the occasional streetlamp and the cold blue glow of her phone screen.

"No, I don’t care if he’s your cousin, Marcus," she snapped into the phone. "You told me I’d get paid last Friday. It’s Monday."

She paced as she argued, her voice low but sharp with frustration.

"I don’t care about his sob story. I did the job, I want my cut. You always have an excuse."

A pause. Her eyes rolled.

"No, don’t give me that ...

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