Vivian’s POV
The drive home was quiet.
I stared through the passenger window, but I barely noticed anything outside.
My mind was still at the warehouse.
The cabinet.
The wristwatch.
My father’s name engraved on the back.
I had slipped the watch into my bag before leaving.
I still couldn’t understand how it had gotten there.
Beside me, Damien glanced at me.
“Vivian,” he said.
I turned toward him.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes,” I replied.
He studied me for a moment.
“You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m just tired,” I said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Is that all?”
I forced a small smile.
“Yes.”
He remained silent for a few seconds.
“If something is bothering you, you can tell me.”
“I know,” I replied.
I turned back toward the window.
But I couldn’t tell him.
Not yet.
I needed to under
