The silence was the first thing I noticed. It wasn't the heavy, watchful silence of the mountain tunnels, nor the comfortable, companionable silence of the office at dawn. It was empty. The silence of a room that had lost its pulse.
I shifted, the stiff weight of the military jacket sliding off my shoulders. It was still warm, retaining the heat of a body that was no longer there. I pulled it closer, burying my face in the collar, breathing in the scent of cedarwood, gasoline, and something colder—like stone deep underground.
He was gone.
I sat up, the room spinning slightly as the exhaustion of the night finally hit me. The dawn light was pale, filtering through the office blinds in gray strips. I looked at the chair across from me—empty. I looked at the desk—neatly organized, pens ali
