The night air was damp, the breeze carrying the scent of wet earth and dry leaves. Behind a row of old buildings on the outskirts of town, two male silhouettes stood beneath the shadow of a large oak tree. The streetlights didn’t reach that corner, leaving them nearly invisible.

Joe arrived wearing a dark hoodie, his face tense, but determination burned clearly in his eyes. Across from him, Hunter lit a cigarette, then immediately put it out—too nervous to take even a single drag.

“Thanks for coming,” Joe said quietly, breaking the silence.

“If this is about Eliana, I’d show up even if you pointed a gun at me,” Hunter...