Arriving in his living room, Lucian throws his laptop onto the sofa in a fit of frustration and runs his hand through his already disheveled hair, feeling exasperated.
The air around him seems thick with tension as he heads to the kitchen, desperate for something to calm his nerves. He grabs a glass, fills it with cold water, and gulps it down, trying to soothe the sense of heaviness pressing on his chest.
This feeling of burden is unfamiliar to him, a sensation that he rarely experiences, no matter the circumstances.
She’s starting to ask questions, and if she keeps this up, she’ll remember everything soon. The very idea makes his heart race with anxiety.
What will happen if she does remember?
He furrows his brows, his gaze drifting towards the stairs. The lingering thought gnaws
