(Sloane’s POV)The elevator ride down to the garage was a blur of fluorescent lights and the heavy, mechanical hum of the cables. I followed a half-step behind Leon, watching the back of his head. He looked steady now, his exhaustion masked by a new, sudden surge of purpose. My anger was still there, simmering like a pilot light, but curiosity was starting to win out. I couldn't let it go completely, though. The image of him walking through that door looking like he'd carried the weight of the world on his shoulders—it stuck with me. So did the fact that he still hadn't explained it.We stepped out into the concrete expanse of the underground parking lot. The air here was damp and smelled of exhaust and old rubber. My sneakers made a soft slapping sound against the oil-stained floor. The echo bounced off the walls, following us like a second set of footsteps."Leon," I said, my voice carrying further than I intended in the
Magbasa pa
Mag-log in
