BRAN'S POV*

The convoy of police cars, sirens silent but lights flashing, sped through the deserted industrial district. They spread out, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, lighting their paths.

The two detectives, their guns drawn, led the way and I, who had somehow managed to convince them to let me tag along, followed from behind, my heart in my throat.

The police breached the warehouse, their footsteps echoing in the space. Dust particles danced in the rays of their flashlights. The air was cold and stale, a place long forgotten.

Then, a sound. A faint, muffled whimpering was coming from a corner of the warehouse, where a small, isolated...