The Carson warehouse loomed in the darkness like a monument to past sins. Lucy parked two blocks away, approaching on foot. The building was abandoned, windows broken, graffiti covering the walls. The perfect place for Isabel to stage her final act of revenge.
Lucy checked her watch. Forty-five minutes since the text. She was early.
The main entrance was chained shut, but a side door hung open, creaking in the wind. Lucy slipped inside, using her phone's flashlight to navigate.
"Dad?" she called softly. "Dad, are you here?"
No answer. Just echoes in the empty space.
Lucy moved deeper into the warehouse, past rusted equipment and rotting crates. The smell of decay was overwhelming—industrial chemicals mixed with mold and something else. Something that made her stomach turn.
Gasoline.
