Twenty-One
The building they had brought Björn to stood directly at the edge of the waters close to the stones. From the looks of it, it had probably been a visitor center for those stones decades ago. There used to be a cafe inside, chairs and tables still lay around 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. A
