The large screen at the front of the hall flickered once, then steadied, bathing the entire room in a cold white glow. Conversations died instantly. Even the clinking of glasses stopped, as if the air itself had been sucked out of the space. Every eye lifted toward the screen, drawn by a tension that suddenly felt heavier than fear.Instantly, the dashcam footage filled the screen.A sleek car sped through the night, the city lights blurring at the edges. Bella sat behind the wheel, one hand gripping it too tightly, the other holding a phone pressed to her ear. Her laughter rang through the speakers, careless and unsteady. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m not drunk,” she said, her voice loose, dismissive. The speedometer needle climbed higher. Outside, the traffic light ahead glowed red, steady and unforgiving.She didn’t slow down.Gasps erupted in the hall.From another angle on the screen, a red car approached the intersection, moving carefully, legally. Inside sat Lisa Collins. Her fac
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