Thalia’s footsteps echoed against the cracked pavement, the envelope of cash crumpled in her grip. The evening air was thick, humid, pressing against her skin like a warning she couldn’t shake. The weight wasn’t just in the money—it was in every word Catherina had said, in the unspoken threats stitched between polite commands.
She never made it to the market.
A black van screeched to a halt beside her, tires spitting gravel. The door slid open before she could react. Hands—rough, gloved—grabbed her, yanking her off her feet. She kicked, her scream muffled by a cloth shoved into her mouth. The world spun as she was dragged inside, the door slamming shut with a final thud.
Darkness swallowed her.
The van jerked forward, speeding down streets she couldn’t see, couldn’t recognize. The meta
