Evelynn POV
Outside, the morning had brightened; clouds were tearing apart like thin paper. I took the can in hands that still trembled. It smelled faintly of the plastic factory - new and chemical - but to me it smelled like leverage. Possibility.
The walk back to the car felt strangely long. The town gave me nothing but the ordinary grey of early day: a dog sniffed a pole, a mail truck rolled past, a kid on a bicycle cut across our path and called hello to the waitress. Those small motions made the morning seem normal in a way I hadn’t felt since the rejection at the pack dinner.
I popped the tank and started the slow, careful pour. The fuel smell hit me like a slap. The petrol can’s plastic warmed under my hands and the liquid hissed like it had its own temper. A drop landed on my bo
