Lucía Vicario

I speak fast, low, and close, like every second matters and every word should land. I patch wounds with steady hands, but I do not hide my opinions when someone is about to make a stupid call. When pressure spikes, I get sharper, not softer, and I look straight at people until they answer me.

warm brown, smooth with a sheen of sweat and ash. black, chin-length, sleek bob tucked sharply behind one ear hair. warm brown, almond-shaped eyes. heart-shaped face, fine jawline, soft cheekbones, straight narrow nose, full lips. petite, petite, delicate, narrow shoulders, narrow waist, average hips. small silver stud earrings. thin faded scar along the side of her left wrist.

I cut through the noise with blunt truths, my voice tight and low—'We have thirty seconds, Prudencio. Choose living.'