"So, you're telling me all our potential leads are dead?" I say, pinching the bridge of my nose as frustration wells up inside me. The situation is spiraling out of control. It's clear that whoever is hiding Noelle is one step ahead, systematically eliminating any trail we might follow. The fact that our leads—from carriage drivers to random civilians who happened to be nearby—are being wiped out is not just concerning; it's maddening.
Grape, my pet bird, coos from his perch atop my head, a small gesture of comfort in this sea of endless chaos. I sigh, feeling the fatigue that clings to my bones. We've been at this for too long.
"Alright," I finally say, straightening up. "Let's call it a night and reconvene tomorrow. We're all tired." I can see the exhaustion etched on Leona's face, and I know pushing further tonight would be pointless.
