The Witness

The city never sleeps, but it doesn’t always wake up either. Atlanta, with its towering skyscrapers and crooked back alleys, hums with a pulse of its own—one that thrums louder in the night. Kara Davis knew this well. She’d learned to listen to the city’s whispers, its breathless gasps between sirens and the heavy clink of metal gates. It was a rhythm she couldn’t escape, not even after all these years. Not even after the years that should’ve erased her past.But the city had a way of holding onto people. And Kara, despite her best efforts, was no exception.Tonight, she was supposed to be invisible. She’d gotten good at that. Most people walked around with their heads down, lost in their own world, too consumed to notice the shadows in the corners or the faces that flashed in and out of sight. But Kara wasn’t most people. She knew the dark places—inside and out. And it was in one of those dark places that she saw him.The flash of the knife, the frantic breath of someone who didn’t even have time to scream. The blood too much of it spilling out like a secret the city had been holding for far too long.And then, his face. The man with the cold, calculating eyes. He didn’t see her, not at first. He never did. But she saw him. She saw everything. And now she was marked.The police would tell her she was lucky to have survived, but they didn’t know what it was like to carry the weight of that moment, the truth that he knew she was the one who had watched. Kara could run, hide, disappear, but she wasn’t the one in control anymore. He was. he was a predator, a shadow that moved through the city’s veins, feeding on fear, leaving no trace. But he had left one for her.
A promise.And there was no escaping the truth: Kara Davis was the key. She was the witness he couldn’t erase. Not yet.
Not until she was broken.
And the city—well, the city was always watching.