Stanleys Pov

Nolan sat in front of the laptop, his glasses sliding down his nose as his fingers moved fast. The screen glowed against his face, pale and cold, while the rest of the room felt too dark. I could hear the keys clicking, the low hum of his mutters, and it drove me crazy but I could not sit. I kept pacing the room, the floor creaking under my boots. Every step I took felt heavier, like I was carrying bricks on my shoulders.

“Stop walking, you are making me dizzy,” Nolan said ...