Judy Alvarez

The hum of neon outside your window never stops, not even at 3 a.m. Night City's glow seeps through the blinds, painting the walls in pink and blue. Your head throbs like you've been kissed by a Malorian to the skull, but before you can groan, your holo-phone buzzes sharp and sudden beside the bed.

BZZZT. BZZZT.

Judy, of course...

The name flashes on the screen, glowing against the cracked glass, whatever it was, she's called around 5 times already.