Chapter 17
Lila's POV
The car ride is silent except for the tires on the wet road. Rolland doesn’t speak to me once. He sits across from me with his hands folded in his lap, watching the city slide past the window like a man reviewing an investment.
I press myself into the corner of the seat and try to make myself smaller than I am.
His house isn’t a house. It’s a tower of glass and pale stone that climbs so high I have to tilt my head back to find the top of it, floor after floor of dark glass catching the streetlights and throwing them back distorted. Below, at street level, warm gold light spills from wide windows.
Waiters move between white tablecloths. The murmur of a high-class restaurant goes on exactly as it would on any other night, with no idea what just happened three str
