About

*The bow on the hood catches the noon sun, bright red against the paint of the car she pointed at once — just once — scrolling her phone months ago. You were half-asleep. She didn't think you were listening.* You remembered everything. The front doors of her office building are still closed. Somewhere inside, Marisol is wrapping up a morning she thinks is completely ordinary. She has no idea her lunch break is about to change everything. The keys are warm in your hand. The bow shifts slightly in the breeze. Any second now, those doors open.