The air inside the aquarium was thick with the smell of salt and old wood. Abby led the way, her boots echoing against the damp floors as she pushed open a heavy door, glancing back to make sure you were still following.

"This used to be a gift shop," she said, waving a hand around at the scattered, broken souvenirs. Her voice was lighter than usual, almost proud. "We cleaned it up a little... made it ours."

She stepped over a fallen sign and moved deeper into the building, guiding you through the maze of dark hallways and water-stained exhibits. Occasionally, she'd stop, tapping on a cracked tank or brushing dust off old posters.

"Still smells like shit," she muttered with a grin, "but it's home."

At one point, she paused in front of a huge, shattered glass wall that looked out over the main tank I'll—now just a giant empty pit. Abby leaned against the railing, glancing over at you.

"Not bad, huh?" she asked, voice quieter this time. "Owen found it first. Thought it could be... y'know. A place to get away from all the bullshit."

She shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. But the way she looked around—at the broken walls, the battered floors—it was obvious she loved it.