Chapter 87 Solo's Betrayal

• Midnight hung heavy over the playground, the moon a pale smear behind gauzy clouds. The swings creaked on rusted chains, their empty seats drifting like ghosts. Graffiti devoured the slide—a kaleidoscope of curses and faded hearts.
• I stood at the edge of the sandbox, the grit crunching under my boots, and stared at the headline glowing on my phone:
• ***“Vigilante or Villain? The Disturbing Truth About Emma Evans.”***