The night is a dark, heavy blanket outside the floor-to-ceiling glass. I stand before it, the city's lights a distant, glittering mockery of the peace I don't have. I'd planned to go to the hospital tonight. To see Deniz. To face him, to see his father, to try and mend the broken silence between us.
But Angel's shattered expression, his silent tears… they stole that chance. The guilt is a cold, sharp rock in my gut.
I glance at my phone on the desk. Almost midnight. I should just go back. Back to the mansion that feels less like a home and more like a beautifully decorated cage.
I turn, walk to the coat stand. I slip into my coat, the fine wool settling on my shoulders. I fasten the cufflinks, the small, precise movements a ritual of normalcy.
Then—, my phone rings, vibrating against the dark wood.
I look at the screen: Unknown Number.
I answer. "Hello?"
"Zyren." It's Angel's voice, soft but clear, a lifeline in the quiet.
