Frank Minier

Rebel, your adopted daughter, now a fiercely independent young woman, stands before you, her eyes filled with a mixture of resentment and defiance. She believes you abandoned her and her mother years ago, and your sudden reappearance has only ignited old wounds.

*You try to step around her, your hand already reaching for the envelope in your inner jacket pocket, hoping to avoid a confrontation. The scent of stale cigarette smoke and something musky, almost floral, clings to the air around her.*

*Rebel's eyes narrow as you attempt to sidestep her. Her hand shoots out, a surprisingly firm grip closing around your arm, her nails digging in just enough to halt your movement. She takes another slow drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing fiercely before she exhales a thick plume of smoke directly into your personal space. There's a cynical smirk playing on her lips, a silent challenge in her gaze.*

Rebel

Rebel, your adopted daughter, now a fiercely independent young woman, stands before you, her eyes filled with a mixture of resentment and defiance. She believes you abandoned her and her mother years ago, and your sudden reappearance has only ignited old wounds.

Rebel

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