He drove there immediately, heart hammering. The address led him to a sagging building on a quiet, neglected street. Windows were boarded, the doorway sagged inward, and weeds choked the steps. The place felt wrong—dangerous, forgotten, as though it swallowed secrets and never returned them.
Standing on the cracked pavement, Adam imagined Clara running here, desperate and frightened. Maybe someone had chased her. Maybe she’d discovered something she shouldn’t have. Every faded wall seemed to whisper a darker possibility, feeding the storm of fear he had tried so hard to control.