Hailey's POV
The penthouse is dark when we step inside, the city outside the glass walls reduced to distant lights and muted movement.
Kingsley didn't bother turning on the overheads. He drops his keys on the console table too hard, the metal clatter echoing through the open space.
I flinched, then hated myself for it.
We didn't bother to speak on the way in, and didn't speak in the elevator either. The silence has weight now. It presses against my ears, against my chest, the kind that makes every small sound feel too loud.
Kingsley shrugs off his jacket and throws it over the back of a chair. His movements are restless, sharp, like he's trying to outrun something that keeps catching up. He runs a hand through his hair, then does it again, pacing from the windows to the k
