A Map of Broken Streets

Previously

…As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Sheriff Brody remained at his desk, bathed in the harsh glow of his desk lamp. The map was a testament to his methodical pursuit, a testament to the fact that he was getting closer. He didn't have them yet, not by a long shot. But he had the locket, he had the whispers, and he had a growing suspicion that the whole damn mess was more tangled than he'd initially thought. Maya and Caleb were running, but they were running into a trap, a web spun not just by Silas Thorne, but by the relentless, patient pursuit of Sheriff Brody himself. The shadow was lengthening, and the night was growing darker.