#Chapter12
Home for the elderlies
Ian's POV
I've got to admit, Zara was a horrible driver. The fact that we couldn't die, didn't give her enough reason to speed through the streets of Hammorog like we were cops on the chase.
We had reached the foundation home a few minutes ago and I still couldn't get my head straight. It felt like there were a thousand stars over it.
/"That was fun right?/" Zara flashed me a smile and cocked her black magnum.
/"I think you don't know what the word fun means./" I wrinkled my face and placed a palm above my head.
The foundation home stood elegantly across the street and yellow duct tapes having, crime scene written on them, ran around the building.
The building took the structure of a traditional Victorian house. The walls were covered with cream paint, and the curved edges of the infrastructure had aesthetic carvings protruding out of it.
