The Wistful Asylum
The van idled. The engine hummed a low, steady note against the cold. I checked the rearview mirror. The road behind us was empty. Just gray asphalt stretching into the fog. "Check your perimeter, Elias," I said. My voice was flat. Professional. "We are not in the clear yet." Elias didn't look up from his tablet. He tapped the glass. A red dot pulsed on the screen. "Thermal is clean, David. No...
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