10
The rain had eased to a soft drizzle, leaving the city streets slick and shimmering under the dim glow of streetlights. The warehouse district, usually abandoned at this hour, was eerily quiet, save for the occasional distant splash of water or creak of rusted metal. Adrian and Elena pressed forward, every sense alert, every heartbeat synchronized with the pulse of fear and hope.
---
Adrian crouched behind a stack of crates, eyes scanning the dimly lit corridors. His fingers traced the edges of Emma's scarf he had found earlier, soaked through but still vibrant. Every fragment, every clue, told a story only they could interpret.
"Elena," he whispered, voice low but firm. "We need to reassess. He's been careful… deliberate. Every path, every clue, it's a test of our focus and endurance."
Elena whispered, "Do you think he expects us to panic here?"
Adrian shook his head. "Let him. Panic won't help him, and it won't help us. We move with purpose."
