Chapter 32 Fractured Shadows

• The road to Dock 12 was a serpent of cracked asphalt, coiled tight under the weight of the night. Rain slashed the windshield, distorting the neon glare of the harbor’s distant lights into smears of green and red. Adam drove in silence, his jaw set, fingers white on the wheel. The bandage on his shoulder peeked from beneath his jacket, a stark reminder of the quarry’s toll.
• I clutched Eli Walsh’s camera in my lap, the film inside a silent scream. Dr. Voss’s message burned in my mind—*Midnight. Dock 12. Come alone.* But Adam hadn’t let me out of his sight since the darkroom.
• “You’re sure about this?” he asked, eyes flicking to the rearview.