(Dante’s POV)
The key turned in the lock with a faint click, and the front door swung open to a silence that pressed in around me like fog.
I stepped into the apartment, expecting to hear the low hum of the TV or the distant sound of Alina’s music bleeding through her bedroom walls. Something. Anything. Instead, it was quiet, frighteningly so.
My bag dropped to the floor with a dull thud. “Alina?” I called out, moving farther inside. But there was nothing.
The living room was still. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral, her scent. But she wasn’t here. I frowned, heading for the kitchen, hoping maybe she’d left a note or, Jesus Christ, gone to the store.
But it didn't take long for me to see it.
A small square of paper, pinned to the fridge with a smiling magnet in
