◆◆◆ Chapter 3 ◆◆◆
The spa’s front door gave under his palm like it had been waiting for him. Inside, the reception area was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single desk lamp. Maya stood behind the counter in yoga pants and a loose tank, hair scraped into a messy knot, wiping surfaces with slow, tired strokes. She looked up, startled.
“We’re closed.” Her eyes narrowed, then softened as recognition hit. “Dickson. Marcus’s friend.”
He nodded, throat too tight for more words. Sarah’s voice kept looping in his skull… boring, boring, boring… each syllable a fresh cut.
Maya studied his face—the red eyes, the tremor in his jaw—and sighed. She dropped the rag. “You look like someone kicked your soul out of your body.”
“Pretty much.”
She glanced at the clock. “Thirty minutes. That’s all I’v
