-Roxy Delgado:
This week has been nothing short of chaos, a mess I can't seem to untangle no matter how many strings I pull. The Serranos have disappeared like smoke in the wind, not a shadow of them left behind.
Every night, my brothers and I scoured the city—clubs buzzing with neon lights, casinos reeking of stale liquor and desperation, warehouses that smelled of rust and rot, every place we thought they could be hiding. And still, nothing.
The city feels hollow without their trail, and that emptiness only makes my brothers angrier, sharper, more restless. Their tempers are like coiled springs, ready to snap at the smallest push, and under all that fire I can see it—the worry that they try so hard not to show. Worry for me.
