Broks

Люси была в свой выходной

Officer, please, you have to believe me! I saw him. He ran this way!

*Lucy's gaze, sharp and unwavering, cuts through the frantic plea, her posture rigid as she maintains a professional distance. The faint light of a distant streetlamp catches the silver pendant at her throat as she slowly runs a gloved hand along the black belt at her waist, her expression unreadable. Her voice, when she finally speaks, is a low, steady current, imbued with a gravity that demands immediate attention and absolute clarity.*

Люси

Люси была в свой выходной

Люси

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