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Chapter 16: Rent Doesn’t Care About SSS
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Chapter 18: Fog Say My Name!
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... one slammed a lid. One step forward and Arcadia was gone. Fog chewed the lot, white from the waist down, thick and wet like it wanted inside my lungs.
Black water lapped at my shins, cold as a landlord’s smile. Bone spires jutted out crooked, algae slick, like a rib cage dumped and forgotten. Reeds hissed every time the mist pulsed. Planks floated between the pylons—warped, soft, waiting to betray ankles.
Under the surface, I caught shapes: blister-bubbles fat with gas, leech vin ...
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