Lana
I stop beneath the aluminum grate and look up at the address stamped across it.
103 Pine Street.
I read it twice, even though I already know it’s right. My chest feels tight. I take a slow breath and try to settle myself before I knock.
When my knuckles hit the metal, the sound explodes through the quiet street. Sharp. Loud. Final. My heart slams so hard it feels like it might break loose.
A faint buzz sounds overhead. I tilt my head back. A security camera hangs above the door. A red light flicks on. The lens turns and clicks as it focuses on me. I stand still and wait, my shoulders tense.
A few seconds later, the barred door opens slightly. A man appears behind it. He’s middle-aged, wearing a black suit that strains across his wide frame.
His hair is dark, but gray creeps i
