The shed didn’t look like storage. It looked like a workshop. The workbench was covered in tools — heavy-duty cutters, clamps, blades, measuring tools, and carefully sorted pieces of rubber cut into shapes that looked far too precise to be random. And then there were the papers. Large blueprint sheets had been spread across the table, weighed down at the corners.
Mark stepped closer. The drawings were covered in circles, curves, measurements, arrows, and shapes that didn’t immediately resemble anything he could make sense of. Some looked layered. Some looked almost playful — but not in a way he could fully explain. One page had repeating rounded forms marked with dimensions.
Another had what looked like different sections laid out in zones. There were notes scribbled in the margins and lines connecting parts of the design together like pieces of a puzzle. It was obvious Darren had a plan. A very detailed one. But what that plan actually was still made no sense. Mark stood there trying to figure it out, staring harder than if the answer might somehow appear if he just looked long enough.
It didn’t. Then he heard footsteps behind him. And when he turned around, Darren was standing in the doorway.
