Days turned into weeks.
At some point, I stopped keeping track.
The penthouse had become a strange kind of prison where nothing ever seemed to change. The same enormous windows. The same expensive furniture. The same guards appearing whenever Solomon left. The same elevator I wasn't allowed to use without permission.
I didn't even know what day it was anymore unless someone told me.
I didn't know what was happening at Nova Home. I didn't know what people there thought had happened to me. Maybe they thought I'd quit. Maybe they thought I'd disappeared. Maybe someone had reported me missing. I had no idea.
I didn't know what my friends were doing, either.
I didn't know if Liam had been looking for me.
I didn't know if he'd told anyone what he'd seen that night.
I didn't know what was
