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into membranes and layers.

Ruby felt the ground hollow under her feet.

Ever since they said her father had 'disappeared', time seemed to have dragged on like an old movie. No one said the word dead, but she knew. She didn't need official confirmation, she didn't need proof. Her father never disappeared. He disappeared 'whenever he wanted'. But now she felt that he was nowhere to be found.

She left the house without any real direction, all she knew was that she needed to breathe. She walked to that same shop, the one that sold expired cigarettes and drinks. And that's when she saw him.

Across the street, he was shouting, holding his wife by the arm. Too tightly. Shaking her as if she were an old doll and that he had control over her. She tried to say something, but he wouldn't let her. He was blinded by anger, by arrogance, by that disgusting thing that weak men carry in their chests when they think they have power.

Ruby stopped, the world going quiet for a second. She could only hear her own heartbeat, and her father's voice echoing in some corner of her memory.

"The world won't give you second chances if you lose control."

She swallowed hard. She felt anger bubbling up. Her father had always tried to teach her to have that surgical precision of his, to keep that neutral, calculated look. But no, she had fire inside her. It was what she inherited from her mother.

She could solve this. Right there, right now.

A blow to the neck, a quick twist of the arm. The man would go down like a sack of trash. It was easy, so easy.

But she stood still. The world seemed full of vermin like. People who crawled, who hurt others for pleasure or cowardice. And she felt like a kind of predator, who doesn't attack for survival, but rather for pure excitement. She had been born to hunt them.

But she didn't do anything. Not yet.