Chapter 93 - The Meeting Place

The address led to a small park tucked behind a row of shuttered storefronts, the kind of place easy to overlook unless you already knew it was there. A single lamppost lit the entrance, its bulb flickering faintly against the gathering dusk, and beyond it a gravel path wound toward a low stone bridge arching over an ornamental pond gone murky with algae and fallen leaves. The air smelled like wet concrete and distant fried food from the main street, and the shutters themselves were tagged with faded graffiti that had been half-washed away by rain.