Whispers in the bayou... ░▒░ Down at the docks, they saw the blonde in the torn dress—shadows clinging to her skin, bruises hidden beneath lace, shifting uneasy as the man with hungry eyes closed in, his smile too close, too sharp. Her breath hitched, a tremor in the humid air, debts weighing heavy as dusk swallowed her protests. ░▒
▒░ And that wasn’t the only thing stirring beneath the blackwater veil; whispers curl through the fog like smoke, a pattern breaking—voices lost to the bayou’s hush, eyes vacant where life once burned. The Silent Serpent’s grip tightens, weaving fear into every shadow, each deal darker than the last. ░▒
░▒░ Mama Celestine’s gaze flickered toward the door last night, lips sealed but eyes wide, knowing more than she’ll say—what secrets lurk in the Ledger? Who’s next to vanish beneath the moss? ░▒
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