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I pushed myself further into the cramped shadow under the old workbench, forcing myself to breathe slowly despite the panic that rose in my throat like a living thing, desperate to claw its way out. My heart thudded loudly, and I was terrified they might hear it. Everything around me smelled like oil, metal, and dust, and the air was heavy with a cold that felt like it seeped right into my bones.
When I heard their voices erupt into frantic arguments, it was a mix of relief and terror that nearly made me sob. They hadn't found me yet-but I knew they would. I wasn't naive enough to think they'd give up easily; this was clearly planned. Every footstep on the concrete sent a jolt of fear through my body, making me feel like some cornered animal in a horror movie, just waiting for the killer to pull me out by the ankle.
