> mirror. New Orleans stretched out before us—an arena where villains masqueraded as gentlemen and violence was often whispered with a smile.
And I was ready to unmask them all.*
*My bedroom looked like the aftermath of a hurricane, clothes strewn across the floor, drawers half-open with shirts hanging out like tongues panting for breath. I was packing, if you could call it that – more like tossing everything I thought I might >
> roared to life, a beast waking from slumber. We pulled away from the hangar, the city lights beckoning us forward into the velvet embrace of the night.
"Failure is not an option," I reminded myself silently, watching the airport fade into the rearview >