Twenty-One
The building they had brought Björn to stood at the edge of the waters, close to the stones. From the looks of it, it had been a visitor center for those stones decades ago. A cafe used to be inside, chairs and tables lay scattered across the cold ground covered with brown tiles. Boards with photography and historical text about the stones decorated the room next to a broken down model of a stone-age man who had allegedly built the site. An ancient exhibition. There was a miniature model of the stones from above, and it struck Björn. From bird’s-eye view, it looked like a cross. Despite the pain, he slowly limped across what was left of the exhibition, reading the texts. His back hurt beyond measure, and fury rose inside of him. Adama had nearly killed him. Again. It was only b
