Sienna's P.O.V.

The van turned right after forty-three seconds. Then left. Long straight. Railroad crossing. I knew because the floor changed beneath me. Three hard bumps. Metal vibration. Horn somewhere far enough away to matter. I counted. Not perfectly. Good enough. T

Sienna's P.O.V.

Police lights were ugly in unfinished hotel windows. Blue. Red. Dust. Plastic sheeting. Nothing cinematic. Just loud. I stayed where I was when the first officer reached the floor. Hands visible. Harlan already had his up. The woman too. Victor did not. Of cour

Sienna's P.O.V.

Six weeks later, I signed another lease. On purpose. That still felt worth noticing. One year. Small house. Two bedrooms. Fenced backyard Butter would never use because he believed grass was beneath him. Ten minutes from Harlow's. Eighteen from the compo