Small Hints
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Gathering allies had proven exceedingly difficult.
Sarah was having a hard time scoping out anyone she could trust not to turn on them, and the few people that she knew hated Corp more than they loved money didn't seem inclined to stick their necks out.
So instead of sending winks and nudges to potential allies, she turned to what had proven to be a wellspring of information: Neath bars. All she had to do was buy a drink and sit and listen. The patrons who had real secrets spoke low enough that they thought they'd go unheard. If Sarah wasn't there to pick up their whispers, they probably would've.
She learned a lot of what she could call fun facts. Who was being sent to kill who and why, who'd been recently redlined or arrested. A few times her ears had pricked up at Cinder's name, but there were never any rumors of his death or capture, only vague comings and goings. She supposed she should consider it good news.