Nora sat at her kitchen table, head buried in her arms, the untouched tea cooling by her elbow. The walls of her apartment felt tighter tonight, the silence heavier. Every tick of the clock was like a hammer on her chest.
Adam’s warning wouldn’t stop echoing in her mind. I’ll find him. I’ll know who he is.
She had tried calling Jason again, desperate for that soothing baritone, that illusion of safety—but his number went straight to voicemail, as it had for days. The little blinking light on her phone screen might as well have been a heartbeat monitor, flatlining.
Her body trembled, not from cold, but from the gnawing realization that the world she built in defiance of Adam might crumble faster than she could hold it together.
She rose suddenly, pacing the apartment. “Think, Nora.Think
