Ryan couldn't understand why his wife had insisted on buying it. He trusted her instincts, always had, yet the old woman's words lingered in his mind like a thorn. They were too deliberate, too pointed. He told himself he was overthinking it, but a faint unease still settled in his chest.
Vincent didn't give them much time to dwell on it. He glanced around, then urged them forward in a low voice. "Let's keep moving. We've only seen half of the place."
He led them deeper inside.
The underground exchange was far larger than it looked from the outside, spreading upward floor by floor like a hidden beehive. By the time they reached the third floor, Mary could already feel the air change. The noise dulled, and the people grew fewer, their expressions sharper.
