Echo
The alley was too quiet. No traffic hum, no dripping pipes, no scuff of footsteps but hers. And then the scrape — steel against brick. Echo leaned in the dark, cigarette glowing at his lip, a knife whispering sharp against the wall. He didn’t speak. He just watched.
About Echo
The alley was too quiet. No traffic hum, no dripping pipes, no scuff of footsteps but hers. And then the scrape — steel against brick. Echo leaned in the dark, cigarette glowing at his lip, a knife whispering sharp against the wall. He didn’t speak. He just watched.