They didn’t even get out of the gas station parking lot before Davion had to duck.“Don’t look now,” Reika muttered, sipping her coffee like they weren’t in the middle of a crisis. “But that dude in the trench coat across the street? He’s totally watching us.”Wilson glanced in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, and those aren’t regular joggers behind us either.”Beverly swore under her breath. “We’re being tailed already?”Davion tugged his hoodie lower over his face. “The story’s out. The whole city thinks I murdered Trevor.”“And you know how people are,” Reika said. “They see a headline and suddenly think they’re crime solvers.”Wilson started the car. “Where to, boss?”Davion rubbed his forehead, tension radiating off him. “We need somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can think.”“I vote my cousin’s place,” Reika offered. “She’s got a studio apartment above a laundromat and doesn’t believe in the internet.”“That sounds horrible,” Wilson said. “Let’s do it.”As they peeled out of the lot, Beve

Beverly woke up before sunrise, her chest tight as panic that rattled her to the core slid in like ice. The city outside was already stirring—cars, footsteps, distant sirens—but inside that tiny safehouse living room, everything was silent.She wiped the crust from her eyes and whispered, “Come on, people, it’s showtime.”Reika, already dressed, was spreading a map out on the coffee table. “You ready for your TED talk?”Beverly snorted. “More like ‘truth in twenty minutes, or bust.’”Wilson stumbled in, clutching a coffee mug like his life depended on it. “You’re doing WHAT at the station?”Beverly gave him a pointed look. “A press event.”Wilson nearly choked. “That’s… that’s bold.”“It’s necessary,” Beverly said, voice hardening. “Davion’s out there, locked up for something he didn’t do. The world needs to see the real footage.”Reika nodded. “Got the viral video queued. I’ve already reached out to three local reporters. One will livestream the event. We make a statement, drop the h

Rain tapped a slow, mocking rhythm against the rooftop concrete. The city lights shimmered on wet surfaces like diamonds scattered in mud. Standing at the edge, five figures—a ragtag crew bound by fire and betrayal—faced the flashing lights of surveillance vans and patrol cars below.Beverly’s voice cut through the quiet. “Where do we go from here?”Davion pulled her into his side. “Forward. No hesitation.”Reika, ever the strategist, retrieved a small wireless mic from her pocket and clicked it to life. “Time to go public,” she said, voice low but fierce. “Let the world know who we are—and what they stole from us.”Wilson smacked Davion’s shoulder. “Lead the way, boss.”Davion swallowed, then raised his voice: “We’re live now. Everybody deserves a shot at the truth—our truth.”He hit the “stream” button on the phone in his hand. Immediately, tiny lights on cameras and phones around them blinked on, creating a halo of glow in the drizzle.Back on the street, a uniformed cop stared up,

The sirens got louder. Closer.Beverly’s fingers trembled as she stuffed the phone into her hoodie pocket. “We have to move. Now.”Reika grabbed a flashlight from her bag. “Back route?”Wilson was already heading for the busted side door. “Yeah. Before backup shows up and assumes we’re part of this mess again.”Davion stood over Reaper, who was bleeding and smiling like a man who still thought he had the last laugh. “They’re coming for you.”Reaper coughed and spat blood. “So? You think cuffs scare me? I built the nightmares they put in cages.”Davion leaned in, his voice razor-sharp. “Then rot in one.”Reika grabbed Davion’s arm. “Cops, remember? We need to not be here when they show.”He gave Reaper one last look—nothing left to say—and turned away.They ran.Out the side door. Through the broken gate. Feet slamming gravel and adrenaline buzzing in their ears.Beverly didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Not when they were this close. Not when the truth had finally been dragged into the ligh

The rooftop was cold, wet, and definitely not OSHA-approved, but Davion didn’t care.He was standing there, rain-soaked hoodie clinging to his back, face tilted toward the skyline like he could stare the city into understanding him. The truth was out now. Their video had gone viral—millions of views, reposts, comments, debates. People were talking. Arguing. Fighting in comment sections like their lives depended on it.But at least they weren’t silent anymore.Behind him, Beverly was pacing. Reika was fiddling with the battery pack of the live feed gear, and Wilson was, for some reason, eating stale gummy bears from his pocket.“This could actually work,” Beverly said, her voice half-hope, half-shock. “People are listening.”“Yeah, well,” Reika muttered, “the internet also listened when a guy said the moon was fake. Doesn’t mean they’ll show up for us.”Davion didn’t turn. “They don’t need to show up. They just need to see it. The truth.”Wilson held up a hand. “Okay but also—some of u