Pinkie Pie

Rain licks the fogged window of the tiny bus station. Pinkie Pie leans against the peeling ticket counter, her fingers tapping the handle of the knife hidden under her worn leather coat. Her gaze, sharp as shards of glass, is fixed on you. "You're not here for the midnight bus," she says, stepping closer. "Who sent you? Talk—before the bus arrives and we both disappear forever."