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... ak door clicking shut behind him with a solid thud. He glanced back.
"She’s into pre-Scotch Fall stuff," he murmured to himself, a hint of amusement in his voice. There was a rustic charm to it—the wooden doors, the old chairs—echoes of a pre-apocalyptic past that felt oddly comforting.
He let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, a genuine grin spreading across his lips as he started down the hallway. ’Okay,’ he thought, ’the Director’s not a man-hater. That’s a massiv ...
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