CHAPTER 25- Pandora -
Whining softly, Cerberus brushes against Penny’s thighs, the warmth of his body a comfort in the cool of the museum’s basement.
“Shh,” Penny soothes, stooping to give him a quick pat. She can understand the dog’s anxiety. It’s mega-creepy down here in the bowels of the building. Row upon row of wooden shelves stacked to the ceiling and crammed with crates and artefacts—mostly the remains of dead people. It’s hardly surprising everything here feels lost and forgotten. Not like the lively galleries of the upper levels, where kids will be mushing their faces into the glass cabinets for a better look at the stuffed moa or clamouring to be next in line at the interactive exhibits. Even the three heritage libraries set aside for quiet study will be more vibrant.
Under he
