was deafening in my ears, and I realized my hands had curled into fists at my sides. I could stil

Grey Franklin didn't do attachments. He did transactions. I

It was my brother. I hadn't answered his calls in two days, not since the hospital

ed it.

ng the city in fractured shards. People moved around me, unaware I had just w

I wanted to scream at her to leave me alone, but she was already reaching for a folder. My folder. "He re

without reading them. My mind was still stuck

e voice-cut through my though

nding so close that I could feel his presence press against my skin like heat. Not intimidat

the schedule," I stam

ored into me, scanning, judging. I felt naked, exposed, as if

e to turn, leave, never come back. But my f

logne. It wasn't overpowering, but it lingered like a warning. "You're going to need

bellious part of me wanted to shout that I could

not even close-but something

ld felt sharper again, colder. I clutched my folder and walke

int smell of exhaust mixed with coffee. People hurried past,

tly. But to the pull of this world, this dangerous, expensive, impossible world

derstand. And through it all, I kept seeing Grey's silhouette at the edge of my mind, a shadow I

cted off wet asphalt, and I walked faster, hands stuffed in my pockets, try

age lit up

PM. Private.

ture. Ju

I could barely afford, back to the life I was desperate to preserve. But another part of me-the part

I wou

Some things demanded obedience. And Grey