Chapter 202 Seeking Agatha

• Blake pulled up to the edge of the town, his car coming to a halt on a narrow dirt road that seemed to lead nowhere. The first light of dawn had barely touched the sky, painting it with pale strokes of pink and gray. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, and the silence was so profound that even the faint rustling of leaves seemed to echo. Blake stepped out of the car, taking a moment to glance around, ensuring that he had not been followed. Satisfied, he adjusted the collar of his coat and began the short walk towards a small, weathered house nestled among the trees.
• The house was old, its wooden boards creaking with age, and the paint had long since peeled away, leaving only traces of what was once a vibrant color. Vines crept along its walls, almost as if they were trying to reclaim it, and the windows were dark, reflecting nothing but the early morning gloom. It was the kind of place that most people would avoid, the kind of place where secrets were kept and forgotten.
• Blake approached the front door, his footsteps muffled by the soft earth beneath him. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering just above the worn wood, before finally knocking. The sound was dull, almost absorbed by the thick air, but it was enough to stir something inside the house. He waited, listening intently, but there was no response. His brow furrowed in frustration as he knocked again, more insistently this time.