*Michael*
I stood at the edge of the resort, gazing critically across the helicopter landing area. Sand and sea salt had weathered the once vividly painted boundary lines on the pad into dull suggestions rather than crisp definitions. The steel railing along the adjacent boardwalk trail leading guests from this arrival point to the heart of the resort were rusted in places, the deck boards warped from years of baking heat, tropical storms, and foot traffic.
I exhaled heavily, making a slow turn to scan the landscape. Vines crept stealthily along the safety fencing and weeds poked up insistently despite groundskeeper Pablo’s best efforts. It was painfully obvious no major upgrades here had occurred in over a decade.
