Dane's POV:
I follow him to the other end, he doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look back, just keeps walking.
His shoulders are stiff beneath his coat, the fabric shifting with each measured step. The corridor stretches long and narrow, the concrete walls swallowing whatever warmth might have existed here once.
The footsteps echo around us, sharp and hollow, as we move our way to the last door. The sound feels too loud in the silence, like a countdown neither of us acknowledges. My pulse keeps pace with it.
And the minute he opens it, my eyes actually hurt with how bright it is.
The light crashes into me.
All around me, all I see is snow, mountains covered with sheets of snow. Endless white. The kind of white that doesn't soothe, that doesn't comfort. It blinds.
Glossy, and sleek, shining under the scorching sun like glass laid over the earth.
The sky is painfully clear, blue stretched thin and endless above jagged peaks.
