*Rowan*
The apartment was just as always, quiet.
But what was not the same, was the woman inside it.
I stood near the edge of the room, half in shadow, watching her from a distance. Harper sat curled into one corner of the leather couch, wrapped in one of my dark gray blankets, a mug of tea between her hands. Her fingers trembled slightly, but her face was unreadable. Not calm. Not shaken. Just somewhere in between.
She hadn't said much since I brought her here. And I hadn't forced her to.
It was strange. I knew how to extract confessions from men twice my size. I could silence a room with a look, end a life with a gesture, make a city bleed. But I didn't know how to ask the girl on my couch if she was okay. Because she wasn't. And I hated that I hadn't protected her from this.
The e
