Rene on the wrong side of the law and the hilarious chaos she creates daily

The rain was the worst. Not the rain itself, which drummed a familiar, slightly comforting rhythm on the cracked windshield of the beat-up sedan they’d 'borrowed' from a distant cousin who probably wouldn’t notice it gone for weeks—maybe months, depending on how deep the cousin was currently sunk into whatever conspiracy theory held his attention that month. No, the rain was the worst because it meant reflections. Every drop catching the neon smear of the liquor store sign across the street turned into a miniature, distorted eye staring right at them.

Rene adjusted the rearview mirror, the sudden movement causing the old metal to squeak in protest, a sound that felt far too loud to her hyper-vigilant ears. “Deon, the light is flickering again. It’s a signal. They know we’re here.”