I was about to take another bite of the fried potato, the piece looking perfectly golden and crisp, when a sound rang out from somewhere outside.
A single, sharp crack that cut through the afternoon air.
A gunshot.
We all stiffened simultaneously, the comfortable moment shattering in an instant. My eyes widened, every muscle in my body tensing as I shoved my chair back and stood up immediately, the wooden legs scraping harshly against the tiles.
Carmen had frozen mid-motion, fork still in hand, her expression shifting from relaxed to terrified in the space of a heartbeat. Shannon had gone completely still, her fork halfway to her mouth, eyes wide with shock .
Another gunshot followed, then another—three in quick succession, the sound coming from somewhere to the north. My ears caught shouts as well, distant but clear enough to carry the edge of panic .
