THEO
The whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it didn’t silence the storm in my head. I set the glass down harder than I intended, the sharp clink cutting through the low hum of conversation in the bar. My fingers drummed against the counter, restless, betraying the unease settling in my chest. I barely registered the weight of her calling card still sitting beside my drink.
Sarah.
Her name alone left a bitter taste in my mouth. I stared at the crisp, white card, the gold-embossed letters gleaming under the dim light.
Call me anytime.
The audacity.
She thought she was clever, spinning her web, baiting me with whispers and well-placed digs. She knew exactly what she was doing when she brought up him.
Ram.
A name that should have meant nothing to me. A name I never cared ab
