The night smelled of rain and possibility. Neon reflected on puddles, fracturing the city into shards of light. Nicole breathed it in, tasted the electricity, and felt something inside her snap free. This was more than ambition; it was reclamation. Every door that had been shut, every whispered “no” and sideways glance, had been stored like kindling. Gia's laugh — low, fierce — was the strike that finally caught.