PASCAL
The rain had returned by evening, thin and steady, tracing faint silver lines down the office windows. It was the kind of rain that muted sound and time alike. I’d been working since before dusk, but the papers on my desk blurred together hours ago.
The mansion was quiet, save for the soft tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway. I’d told myself I was waiting on a few reports to finish, but that wasn’t the truth. I was waiting for Kendra.
She’d been distant all day. I noticed it at breakfast, the stillness in her eyes, the way her answers came seconds too late, as if she was trapped somewhere else entirely. I didn’t ask then. I’d learned that pressing too early only made her walls higher.
Now, hearing her footsteps approach down the hall, I leaned back in my chair. The door
