ANONYMOUS

The air inside the abandoned storage facility felt heavy, smelling of damp concrete and the sharp, metallic tang of old iron.

I leaned against a rusted support pillar, my arms folded across my chest as I watched her.

Livia was a nervous wreck, pacing the uneven floorboards so rhythmically that it set my own nerves on edge.

Her heels scuffed against the grit, a dry, scratching sound that filled the silence between us.

Every time she turned, her eyes darted toward the small, ...