Clark's POV:
The room was dim, the kind of darkness that clung to every corner, refusing to let go. The only light came from the small window, the weak rays of early dawn doing little to chase away the oppressive gloom inside. The air was stale, thick with the smell of something metallic. Blood. It wasn't the first time I'd smelled it in this place, and it wouldn't be the last.
I scanned the room quickly, my eyes darting from corner to corner. I didn't want to believe it, but the truth was already clear: Sara wasn't here.
I turned my head at the faintest movement, catching something in the corner of my eye. A shape. A figure, crouched low and breathing softly. But when I looked again, it was just a shadow, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
Lucas was already checking the bathroom, and I knew what he was going to find. Nothing.
"Nothing," he muttered, his voice flat, the weight of his words heavier than anything else in this place.
