The abandoned house stood in eerie silence, as though it had chosen solitude, as if having people around was an unnecessary luxury.
Before the varnish was applied, the floor had once been a highly polished parquet, with individual blocks carefully placed and sanded to a smooth finish. The window frames were sturdy, the walls were rock solid, and the glass was unbroken and triple-glazed. In general, the area had the appearance of a set waiting for life to happen.
But the smell gave it away, and the dust. Mostly, the smell. Musty and dry, like a place sealed up for too long, untouched by fresh air.
Inside the house, four burly men stood guard, their eyes sharp, masked to hide their identities. In front of them sat Hannah and Louis, tied to chairs with their hands bound behind them, facing each other. Both looked pale and weak, unconscious.
