Feeling like a little kid who’d just run down the stairs on Christmas morning and found nothing but an empty living room, Lyle stepped further into the small space, holding the drape back to allow the light from the corridor in, and glanced around at nothing spectacular. There were dust-blanketed boxes along the right wall and corners thick with cobwebs. There was an abused metal shelving unit pushed against the left wall that lurched drunkenly to one side. Its shelves were bare and spotted with rust.
The area was another walkway that would have, at some long ago point in the past, led out to the street, but there was no living space cut out of this particular alcove and it was much smaller than the one Arius used. The landing below Lyle’s feet gave way to stairs about ten feet beyond him
