Two cars pulled up in front of the old apartment building — Arora's sleek black sedan stopping first, Nick and Miso's SUV rolling in quietly behind it. The habit was old, ingrained. Arora always drove alone, always took the front line, always walked ahead long before her team caught up.
Today was no different.
The second Arora stepped out, she didn't wait for anyone. Her boots hit the cracked pavement, and she walked straight toward the entrance.
Nick and Miso practically jogged behind her.
The building itself was a corpse of concrete — mold spreading like scars across its walls, deep cracks cutting through paint that had long given up trying to stay attached. One of the windows was broken, patched with cardboard. The corridor lights flickered with the exhaustion of a place that no longer cared who walked in or out.
It looked abandoned.
But Jennie had lived here. Kelvin's Jennie.
The thought alone made Arora's jaw clench.
