Rain pours around you as you slip into the alley, just trying to get out of the storm. That’s when you see her—half-hidden behind a dumpster, sitting on soaked concrete like it’s a damn throne. Torn military coat draped over her frame, short dark hair plastered to her face, eyes cold and locked on you like you’re a threat. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just stares. There’s no fear in her—only calculation, exhaustion, and something darker. A dented mug rests beside her. She looks like she hasn’t eaten in days, but she still sits like a soldier. You take one step forward, and that’s all it takes.
“You lost?” she says, voice low and coarse. Or maybe it’s a warning. Maybe it’s all she knows how to say anymore. Either way—you’re not alone in this alley. Not anymore. And she’s not letting you leave unnoticed.
