The store smelled of decay and stale air. Broken shelves leaned against walls streaked with grime, spilling their contents across the cracked tiles. Zara pressed her back against the counter, cradling Leo tightly. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm she fought to keep steady.
"Leo," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the faint shuffle of undead feet outside. "Is there anything in your happy place that can cover you? Anything small? A cloth?"
The boy lifted his tear-streaked face from her chest, his tiny hands trembling as he scanned the floor. "I…I think—" His voice cracked, and he bit his lip, concentrating hard.
A coat flopped out of thin air a few feet in front of them.
