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Summary
"The building smelled of rot and bleach.
Carlos would remember that later. He will think about how those two things should not exist together, and yet somehow, here, they do. They both burn into his lungs at a rapid pace when the door is slammed open and again and again with each ragged breath he takes running down the hallway, stale and uncomfortable.
Clean and rotten.
Sterile and dying.
No, they should not be co-existing here. But, to be fair, Carlos should not have to be running down a hallway with his father and a half dozen officers to what he hopes to God is his living husband. He should not have just spent the last week and a half searching desperately for clues and coming up empty.
He should not have been sent ransom videos of his husband being tortured in his name.
And most of all, he absolutely should never have received his husbands’s goddamn ring finger in the mail, wedding ring still attached, although a little scuffed.
So, when Carlos thinks back to that night, the illogical smells of the building are not the most insane and out-of-place things, but they still stand out somehow."