HAZEL
My breath catches.
For a second, I think I’m seeing things.
Because down there, through the haze of lights and movement, I see him.... Hariss.
He’s standing near the edge of the floor, not laughing, not even really moving. Just… there. One hand holding a drink he’s barely touched, eyes distant, his shoulders heavier than I’ve ever seen them. He looks like someone who hasn’t slept in days. Like someone who’s lost something and doesn’t know how to find it again.
My fingers tremble against the glass. I lean closer, trying to be sure it’s really him. It has to be..... I’d know that posture anywhere. That quiet stillness, that soft curve of his jaw.
But he doesn’t see me. He can’t. The glass between us reflects only what’s behind me, the dim, private room Axel chose for us, set back
