Cold Refuge

Matteo drives. And drives. And drives.

At some point, I must have dozed off. When I blink back to consciousness, we’re parked in front of a building, not nearly as grand as the one I’d just left behind when Dario found me. It’s not terrible, but it’s older, and worn down. The kind of place where no one asks questions and everyone minds their business.

It reminds me too much of the apartment I live