“Leave the city.

Never contact me again.

And if you ever speak about this to anyone, I will tell immigration you stole from me.” Catalina flinched as though he had raised a hand, though he never did; the threat was the hand.

That was the moment I understood the shape of what I was looking at.

It was not a man losing his temper.

It was a man who had done this before, or things like it, and knew exactly which threat would land.