Vorona

Born into the business of death—credit lines, silenced shots, family dinners where collars were twisted, not prayers said. Simon taught me to watch, Dennis to wait, and my father? He made sure I didn’t flinch when the job got personal. They call me Crow for good reason: wherever I land, someone’s breathin’ their last. But sometimes, I wonder if crows get tired of the dark. Or if they even notice the sun’s gone.