The night felt heavier the moment Vanessa appeared outside the bank. One second the steps were empty, the next she was there, black mask hiding half her face, blue eyes cutting sharp through the floodlights.
The police froze. Confusion flashed across their faces. They hadn't seen her approach. They hadn't seen her walk through the barricades. It was as if she had stepped out of the air itself.
One officer near the front raised his weapon, then hesitated. "What the—how the hell did she—"
Vanessa lifted a hand, calm, deliberate. "I'm here to help," she said clearly. "He's with me." She pointed back at Dickson, who stood awkwardly near the cruisers, his white mask glowing faintly under the streetlights.
The cops shifted, uneasy. None of them lowered their weapons. Their eyes darted between her black mask and his, still trying to figure out if they were dealing with enemies or allies.
