MAXWELL’S POV
The silence in my office was entirely deafening.
With the sun having set an hour ago to turn the skyline into a glittering grid of electric light, the view usually provided a calming reminder of order, structure, and power. Tonight, however, it just looked like a maze designed to hide things.
Standing by the window with my forehead resting against the cool glass, my reflection stared back at me as a man in a three-thousand-dollar suit who looked ready to tear the room apart.
At 6:30 PM, she had been gone for exactly ninety minutes.
My mind was running through scenarios where each one was worse than the last, starting with the possibility that she was meeting a boyfriend who had given her that bruise. Wondering if he was abusive and she was trying to leave him, which woul
