დ Aidan დ
The warehouse lights buzzed like flies over sugar. Rows of parts, hoses, and clamps ran forever. The smell of bleach and rubber hung in the air. Rowan pushed the flat cart, and I walked beside him with a list that might as well have been written in another language.
“We need fittings, food-grade tubing, and a new hose head,” he said.
“Point and I will grab,” I said. He pointed, and I grabbed. Work filled the spaces that talk could not. It took us quite a while to get everything we needed, but soon enough, we were at the checkout line that curled past a corkboard. A flyer with silver letters read Data Center Update.
“It is on hold,” a woman in a red cap said. “Apparently, the owner is still missing. Maybe it dies on the vine,”
“Let it,” a man behind her said. His fingernails
