Liam grabbed my shoulder, pulling me behind a thick, soot-stained pillar.

“Keep your head down, Audrey,” he said.

Beatrice stood in the center of the room, looking frantically between the front entrance and the dark hallway at the back.

“Chloe!” she called out again, her voice muffled by the heavy air.

“Shut up, Beatrice,” Liam muttered.

The heavy wooden front door creaked open, sliding slowly on its rusted hinges.

A silhouette appeared in the doorway, framed by the grey coastal fog outside.

The figure held a flashlight low to the ground, the beam cutting through the swirling dust.

“Vance?” a voice called out.

It was Detective Maren Holt.

Her voice was low, carrying a calm authority that immediately cut through the panic in the room.

“We’re here, Detective,” Liam answered.

Holt stepped inside, her service weapon held ready at her side.

Two uniformed officers followed her, their boots making almost no sound on the grit-covered floor.

“Is the perimeter secure?” Liam asked, stepping out from behind the pillar.

“My officers have the back exits covered,” Holt said, her eyes moving over Beatrice and then to me. “Are you two alright?”