3:54 a.m.
I undo my bun to retrieve the hairpin that was holding it in place.
I carefully bend it to make sure it’ll be usable.
With a click, I open the door and step inside the apartment, making sure not to make any noise; he must be asleep by now.
I know because I followed him after he left the warehouse. I waited, hidden in the stairwell, until he was deeply asleep.
I don’t want impulsive Inara.
I don’t waste time looking at the cheap decor. This must be one of his secondary residences, a place he hides out from time to time.
I’m breaking in, but I need to be patient. Since I found out he’s the one behind all this crap, I’ve felt immense hatred toward myself for not having seen it earlier. I should have been on alert and realized he was playing me.
I was blinded by my emotions.
