It's not what she expected 3!

With their mission accomplished, they began packing up, ready to head back. Midway, Emeka glanced at the heavy tote slung over Dewi's shoulder.

"You sure you don't wanna offload some of that? I've got space," she offered.

Dewi shook her head. "I'm fine. It's not that heavy."

But Austina was already tugging the bag's strap. "Nope. Teamwork rules, Dewi. We've got this."

"Seriously, back in Texas, I lugged hay bales twice this size," Austina added, hoisting the bag onto her own shoulder.

Emeka chimed in, "And mine's literally just snacks. Not exactly a workout."

Dewi relented, though her pride prickled. They trudged toward the bus stop, the market's chaos fading behind them.

Then—a gunshot cracked through the air, sharp and metallic.

They three froze, inches from the bus doors. For a split-second, time blurred—shouts erupted, the crowd scattered, and they dove behind the bus shelter's corroded walls, hearts hammering.

"What the hell was that?!" Emeka hissed, crouching low.

Emeka's voice trembled, but her grip on Dewi's bag stayed firm, "Just… stay down."

They huddled behind the bus shelter, the gunman's footsteps crunching gravel nearby. The bus ahead was a tomb—bodies slumped in seats, blood-smeared windows glinting under the harsh streetlights. Dewi's second nightmare in this damned city.

Emeka's breath hitched. "What the hell…?" she whispered, voice fraying. Austina clamped a hand over his mouth, her own face pale but steady.

Dewi's fingers trembled as she frantically thumbed an SOS to Fitri, Sebastian, and Ajeng, her phone's glow casting ghostly shadows. *Sent, Location shared.

"Shh. Stay quiet. Help's coming," she mouthed, though her own pulse roared in her ears.

The gunman prowled into view—a hulking silhouette in a black ski mask and tactical gear, his head swiveling like a predator's. Emeka's tears streaked silent tracks down his cheeks; Austina's grip on his arm tightened, her Texan drawl barely a breath: "Breathe. We'll make it. Seen worse back home."

Dewi's mind raced. Two blocks from the market. Ten minutes till help arrives. If they find us first—*

The gunman paused, boots scraping concrete. Austina's eyes narrowed, her calm a blade against the chaos.

"Don't Move, be careful." Austina whispers

—Less than a minute after the SOS blared out, police cruisers screeched to a halt. A sharpshooter's bullet tore through the gunman's leg, dropping him mid-stride. Dewi spotted Fitri striding alongside the officers, her sharp gaze scanning the chaos.

"Ahh—we're alive," Emeka gasped, slumping against the shelter's wall.

Austina smirked, though her hands still shook. "Told you Texas luck's contagious."

Dewi lunged into Fitri's arms, sobbing into her shoulder. "I thought—I thought—"

Fitri said nothing, her calloused palm stroking Dewi's hair like she'd done a hundred times before.

Emeka and Austina, catching the moment, exchanged a glance—then awkwardly wrapped their arms around each other. "Group hug? Really?" Emeka mumbled, but his grip tightened.

The hulking gunman writhed on the asphalt, cursing as officers cuffed him. Fitri jerked her chin toward the carnage. "Handle the rest," she ordered, her voice ice. The cops nodded, already bagging evidence and zipping body bags.

"going to car. Now," Fitri barked, herding they three toward her jeep. Emeka clambered in first, Austina muttering about adrenaline crashes. Dewi lingered, her fingers knotted in Fitri's sleeve.

They drove off, the market shrinking in the rearview, Dewi still hadn't let go from her hugging.