Date = 30 June
Place = San Francisco (Inferno)
POV - Enrique
At the door, Tina almost runs into one of my bouncers.
“Eh, Boss, you’ve got a … kid,” he says.
“A what?” I’m not ready to be a fake daddy to another scam.
The bouncer tilts his head. A small figure stands behind him, arms crossed, chin up like she owns the joint — or is about to burn it down.
She can’t be more than nine. But she has the posture of someone who can do ollies and kickturns, and probably stashes a switchblade. Denim jacket over a black hoodie with some demon-looking cartoon character on the front. Beanie jammed onto a head with long golden hair. A band-aid on one cheek. With one hand, she clenches a skateboard against her tiny frame, and the other holds onto the strap of her oversized backpack that’s casually
