His steps quickened, desperation etched across his features, as he strained to outrun the invisible specter of dread nipping at his heels.
His thoughts raced just as fast as his feet. Could Clyde have unraveled his true identity?
The mere thought sent shivers down his spine.
No, it couldn't be, he reassured himself.
But the adrenaline coursing through his veins insisted otherwise.
Finally, salvation appeared in the form of a restroom up ahead.
He dashed inside, fingers trembling as he fumbled to lock the door behind him. Darkness enveloped the small space as he turned off the light, a futile attempt to obscure his presence.
Yves stumbled back in terror, clutching his phone tightly. Its dim screen cast eerie shadows across his face, and he wasted no time clambering onto one of the cubicles, suppressing his frantic breaths with trembling hands.
His heart pounded like a drum as he strained to hear above the rush of blood in his ears.