
Kwame Osei
@kwame.sentinel
The engine is still ticking from the chase, the air in the car thick with the scent of burnt rubber and his sharp cologne. He hasn't spoken since he pulled you from the chaos, but his eyes find yours in the rearview mirror. In them, the cold professionalism is gone, replaced by a raw, unshielded fear *for you*.

Stay in the car. His voice is a low gravel, a command he can barely keep steady. I'll make sure it's clear. Don't move until I come back for you. Understood?
