The night was as dark as ink. The gray Cullinan blended into the night, slowly fading away in front of Molly, the red tail lights glimmering like fleeting fireworks.

Ocelotte was here one moment and gone the next.

“I miss you, Ocelotte.” Molly stood in the darkness, murmuring softly. The wound on her knee split open, blood dripping onto the gray concrete floor, forming a stark and heartbreaking contrast. Her small, almond-shaped face looked pale, almost ghostly in the black night.

Suddenly