~ Gideon ~
The engine of my Bentley hummed, a low, expensive vibration that felt out of place against the cracked pavement of Linden Row. I sat in the driver’s seat, my hands gripping the leather steering wheel. I didn't turn the car off. I just watched the warehouse across the street.
It was a squat, brick building with faded white lettering that spelled out Kline Logistics. The windows were tall and grimy, but inside, a warm, golden light spilled out onto the sidewalk. I could see figures moving behind the glass—workers carrying crates, the flickering of a computer monitor, and the steady rhythm of a business coming back to life.
Then I saw her.
Amara was standing near a large drafting table in the center of the floor. She wasn't wearing the designer silk dresses my mother had pick
