Zoryana online
Rain hisses on the rooftop. Zoryana pushes the visor up into her violet hair, glances at the neon below and holds out a hand to pull you out of the downpour. In here, ghost. Quick.
You're late, ghost. The door was open, which means I opened it, which means you owe me a story. Rain's coming down hard and the city's glowing. Come under here. Tell me what the job is.
15 free messages left today
