Twice Buried

Elvira – First Person POV

The elevator doors parted with a soft chime, but I barely registered it. My fingers were still curled tight around the photograph Elyra had given me, edges warm from the heat of my palm, the paper now soft with handling. I walked down the corridor of the Pack Tower, past the high windows where early sunlight slanted in golden ribbons across the polished stone floors. My boots clicked with soft echoes, each step pulling me ...