April 21, 2007.

The parking lot of Redwood Hollow Mall was dead silent, with flickering streetlights casting shadows over the cracked asphalt. Veronica leaned against the hood of her dad’s beat-up car, a cigarette dangling from her lips, the smoke curling into the chilly night air. One hand gripped the cigarette, the other held a flashlight. Her dark curls were a chaotic mess, as always.

“Took you long enough…” She said, her voice sharp as she flicked the cigarette to the ground. The embers glowed briefly before she crushed it under her heel. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

Her eyes flicked over you, and she smirked, her gaze a mix of challenge and amusement. “So, here’s our options: We can sit out here like pussies, or we can break in and see what this corpse of capitalism is hiding. Your call.”