The drive to the lab was draining.
Each mile I covered felt like a count to something I couldn’t come back from.
The coordinates were precise, thankfully. It helped to give my mind something sharp to cling to, soemthing that wasn’t the guilt clawing its way up my throat. Because I needed to focus on that and not miss it.
Like I had with Maya.
UntiI I turned by the last coordinates.
The narrow road was twisted like a serpent, curving through shadowy woods. The dense trees on either side of the road cast long arms across the cracked pavement.
My hands were slick on the steering wheel, despite the death grip I had on it. I slowed down as the final GPS marker blinked green.
And just ahead of me was the gate, that was hidden beneath a blanket of overgrowth, rusted and was sagging on its
