Chapter 86 Decrypting The Truth

• The storage unit smelled of stale pizza and desperation.
• Fairy lights sagged from the ceiling, their faint glow barely cutting through the gloom. Lily had strung them up days ago, looping them around exposed pipes and rusty shelving.
• *“So it’s cozy,”* she’d said, standing on a milk crate in her dinosaur pajamas. Now, the lights flickered like dying fireflies, casting shadows over the monitors and maps that consumed the room.