Maya's POV
The stench of decay and industrial grease filled the abandoned warehouse, creating a sickening combination that made my already churning stomach worse.
Leo had exhausted himself from crying and now lay quietly in his stroller next to me, but I could sense the anxiety coursing through his small frame. Despite being just a baby, he somehow understood that danger surrounded us.
Geoffrey moved restlessly near the entrance, checking his watch repeatedly before squinting through the filthy window that faced the empty road beyond. Gone was any trace of the refined gentleman I remembered from family gatherings. His hair stuck out at odd angles, stubble covered his jaw unevenly, and his wrinkled clothes bore mysterious stains. Clearly, weeks of running had stripped away his polished facade.
"You must be starving," he said abruptly, turning my way and nodding toward a crumpled paper bag sitting on a makeshift table constructed from wooden crates. "I picked up some sandwiches."
