The biting winter wind whipped through the city streets, a stark contrast to the stifling air inside the bank. Trinity, her shoulders hunched against the chill, just wanted to finish her errand and get home. Her mother's medical bills weighed heavily on her mind, a constant, dull ache. She clutched her purse a little tighter, eyeing the empty teller lines.

Suddenly, the quiet was shattered by a crash and the guttural roar of a man. Masks appeared, guns glinted, and the mundane bank transformed into a terrifying trap. Trinity instinctively dropped to the floor, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was just an innocent bystander, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. But as the police sirens wailed in the distance, a rough hand grabbed her, and a cold muzzle pressed against her temple. She was a hostage now, dragged into the chaos, her simple life irrevocably broken.