11
The warehouse district was silent now, but silence was deceptive. Every corner, every shadow, every drip of water from the leaky roof carried a sense of menace. Adrian and Elena pressed forward, flashlights cutting through the gloom, each footstep measured, each breath controlled.
---
Elena crouched low, scanning the cracked floor for traces of Emma. Small scuff marks, faint footprints barely visible led deeper into the maze of corridors.
"Look," Elena whispered, pointing. "She's been here. These are her prints. We're on the right track."
Adrian nodded, eyes sharp. "Good. Every mark counts. Keep following them carefully."
Elena whispered, "I keep thinking… what if she called for me and I didn't hear?"
"You would've heard," Adrian murmured. "And she knows that. That's why she's guiding us now."
She nodded slowly. "Then I won't ignore anything. Not even the smallest sign."
Elena brushed her fingers over the faint prints again, her voice trembling.
