The black SUV rolled to a slow stop in front of the old brick building. It looked smaller than Ariella remembered, but no less haunting. The air was thick with dust and memories of ones she’d fought hard to forget.
She stared out through the tinted window, fingers clenched tightly around the seatbelt across her chest.
Beside her, Elian shifted. “You don’t have to go in.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”
The plan had been laid out carefully; Elian's security team swept the building twice that morning. Cameras had been placed along the stairwells, and exit routes mapped. Still, Ariella insisted on seeing the apartment herself. Alone.
She needed to touch the past. Face it. Confront what she left behind.
Elian didn’t like it. Not one bit. But he understo
