The abandoned theatre did not breathe like the city outside, for its silence was heavier, older, thick with dust and forgotten echoes that clung to the torn velvet curtains and cracked stage, and Sarah stood at its center as though she belonged to that decay, her posture rigid, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if holding something inside from spilling out.
Her breath came uneven.
Not loud.
But unsteady.
And her gaze remained fixed upon nothing, upon the empty rows of broken seats that seemed to watch her in return, as though the past itself had taken form and settled in the shadows.
"You chose an interesting place."
The voice did not startle her.
It slid into the space like something expected.
Something inevitable.
Sarah's fingers tightened against her arms, her nails pressing into the fabric as she exhaled slowly, her shoulders lifting and falling in a motion that betrayed more tension than she wished to show.
