Weaving through
Despite the unease gnawing at him, Frank stepped deeper into the display. His boots squeaked softly against the polished floor as he wove through the umbrellas, scanning carefully.
He moved slowly, almost ritualistically, eyes darting for hidden patterns. Then, at the very center of the gym, he noticed something different. A small clearing stood out, waiting like a spotlighted stage.
Page 10 of 70
