Mason Graves
The moment Serena left, a knot settled in my stomach that I couldn’t shake off. She had been so tense that morning, not meeting my eyes, speaking in half-formed sentences. Then, when she told me she was going to the States for an event, something didn’t sit right. I could tell she was hiding something. But she wouldn’t tell me what, and I didn’t push it. Not yet. But now? Now, that knot had only tightened.
I was pacing around my office, the silence of the room amplifying the churn of anxiety in my gut. My fingers brushed against the edge of my desk, a mechanical reaction to the rising frustration inside me. There were so many things she hadn’t said, and I couldn’t stop the feeling that something was wrong. She’d gone to the airport, only a handbag in hand, while her friends—
