Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

Twelve black armored sedans lined the street with the stillness of a military formation, their headlights cutting through the downpour like the eyes of something patient and enormous. She had known they would be there. What she hadn't anticipated was the silence — the way the entire block had simply ceased to be public space. No taxis. No pedestrians. No sound beyond the rain and the low hum of engines built for war. The rear door of the lead vehicle opened before she reached the curb, and Sunju