Chapter 39

• Belle***
• The warehouse was a tomb of silence, save for the ragged rise and fall of our breath. Dust hung thick in the air, curling in the dim shafts of moonlight seeping through the broken windows above. The scent of rust and decay clung to my nostrils, heavy and suffocating. Every step I took was cautious, the crunch of shattered glass beneath my boots a betrayal in the oppressive quiet.
• Jake was slumped against the cold concrete wall, his breaths shallow and uneven. Sweat clung to his forehead, and the dark stain spreading across his shirt sent a cold stab of fear through my chest. He was bleeding too much, too fast. My hands shook as I pressed against his side, feeling the sticky warmth of his blood seeping between my fingers.