Charlotte Thompson listened to the escalating wails and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly.
Should she say "turnabout is fair play," or "evildoers will meet their doom"?
It didn't seem so, for those dealing with this evil family were also human.
Behind her, Jordan Thompson followed. He slightly raised an eyebrow, his eyes flickered with an inscrutable light.
He raised his hand, using his thumb to touch his lips, the corner of his mouth subtly hooked upward: "We will know once we go in."
Outside the warehouse was a path full of weeds. It had been taken care of in advance by Henry Thompson, but due to the rain last night, there were still bumps in the road.
Charlotte trod carefully along the muddy path, her pale blue jeans stained by the occasional splash of mud, which was particularly noticeable.
As soon as she entered the warehouse, she saw Ethan Allen leaning against a pillar, gasping for air.