Chapter Twenty-SixThe three of us snuck past a battered barrier like dogged fans past a teen idol's security. We picked our cautious ways down the narrow debris-laden laneway running between both galleries—or rather the fragmented, crumbled walls that had once served as them.
“Gross.” Gail cursed. “I'm glad I wore old runners.”
“Wish I had,” Rey muttered. “At least I was smart enough to bring a rain jacket.”
“Wish I had,” I murmured.
We continued along the soggy, mucky ground with flashlights in spotlight mode.
“It doesn't look like any fire damage restoration has started,” Gail commented, picking her grimacing way forward.
“You know, someone might see the lights and come checking. Maybe we should be more careful,” Rey suggested, lowering her flashlight.
“Then we won't see a thing,”
