Jessica stepped into the warehouse, her heart pounding. Jordan stayed close beside her, eyes scanning every corner of the shadowy space.
The air was heavy, thick with tension. The dim overhead lights barely lit the room, casting long, distorted shadows along the cracked concrete walls.
Standing in the center was Donald.
The moment he saw them, his eyes narrowed.
But then his expression shifted. Irritation flickered across his face.
"What the hell is this?" Donald snapped, his voice echoing sharply. "Who are you supposed to be?"
His glare darted from Jessica to Jordan, and then back again. "You're not Ethan."
His eyes flared with anger as he turned on Verran, his voice rising. "You idiot! This isn't him!"
Verran, standing off to the side, shrugged and smiled as if it didn't bother him. His smirk was smug, lazy.
"Not Ethan?" he said, raising a brow. "Huh. Doesn't really matter, does it?"
