Clara Voss stepped off the creaking bus, her boots crunching gravel as the autumn wind sliced through her coat. Blackwood, a town buried in the pine-draped hills of Oregon, had not changed in ten years—except for the digital signs flickering…
Lena Voss stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. The numbers on her dashboard pulsed like a heartbeat—traffic down 40%, keyword rankings plummeting. She leaned back, the leather of her chair creaking, and exhaled through her nose.…
Mara traced the hum of the city’s neural grid through her fingertips, the static of encrypted data pulsing beneath her skin. The air smelled of ozone and rust, a metallic tang that clung to her clothes. She stood at the…
The rain tapped the windshield like a desperate code, each drop a fleeting error message. Mara adjusted the rearview mirror, catching the flicker of a neon sign ahead—”Maple Street Inn” in peeling cursive. The town hadn’t changed since her last…
The neon sign flickered above the storefront, casting a blood-red glow over the sidewalk. Mara adjusted her black beret, her fingers brushing the cold steel of the revolver tucked into her waistband. The air reeked of fried onions and desperation.…