(Malory)
I tiptoe onto a wooden tile and it creaks –I cringe –I pray no one has heard me.
Quiet, Malory...
Someone will hear you...
I hear pacing footsteps in the other room and I know they belong to Kyle.
I went through Hell trying to follow this idiot –but at least now I know for certain that he’s been lying to me.
Why the abandoned warehouse?
Any shuffle or creak or tap or sigh –even a breath that’s slightly over a decibel- could reveal that I’ve followed him to his strange meeting place.
After school today, I had followed Kyle to the compound. I spent about half an hour loitering in a nearby gift shop, and then spotted Kyle in the passenger’s seat of a blue vehicle –some other guy was the driver.
I took a taxi and followed. When they turned to drive down Carson Street, I eyed Kyle’s movement towards the warehouse. I asked the driver to drop me off on the main road.