t had a
Gunpowder. Blo
she did, it was always that night. The fire didn't just take her family
had been small-time, but smart-her father ran clean shipments out of the Port of Longshore. No drugs
it turns out, a
rother Ben was the one who answered. She remembered the way he tilted his head, confu
a mes
casserole. Her father reached for the revolver in the drawer by th
owns, white porcelain twisted into grotesque cheer. She'd never seen anything
. The way her father had tried to shield her with his body even as bullets ridn't
't make
watc
e was taller than the rest. Moved like he owned the ground. A silver scorpi
t the
one thing
ds. Ventresc
e house
feet blistering on red-hot tile. She ran barefoot through the backwoods behind
e'd died with t
faulty gas line, maybe arson by a rival, but nothing worth
er family
nto the port busi
Caroline R
ho survive
memorized the
every face, every smirk into her
ne else-Cara, the girl who smiled when men underestimated her. The girl who studied the
d
was th