Briar Point Of View
The black Mini Cooper rolled to a stop in the courage at her work underground parking, the engine's familiar hum cutting to silence as Briar turned the key. The parking lot stretched empty around her—just her car and the silver Mercedes S-Class parked in the reserved spot near the elevator. Her pulse quickened at the sight of it. He was still here.
She flipped down the visor mirror and twisted the cap off her favorite red lipstick.
The color was called "Scarlet Sins," and she traced the creamy pigment across her lower lip first, then the upper, pressing them together to even the shade. She smacked her lips once, satisfied with the way the bold crimson made her blue eyes pop against her fair skin. The lipstick was her armor tonight—her war paint.
Briar stepped out o
