74

ASHTON

I stood in the middle of the room, staring at the padlocked, chained, and bolted door. Frustration surged through me as I muttered an expletive, my eyes fixed on the ceiling above.

Lennox, my trusted companion, twirled the knob on his radio, seemingly unruffled by the challenge before us. "It's not a simple task," he commented, his voice steady.

Confused, I questioned him further. "What do you mean?"

Lennox clarified his statement while casually leaning half on the desk, nonchalantly slipping his hands into his black pants pockets. "What you're going through, what truly matters to you—it's not something trivial," he explained.