The wind lifts my hair as I stare over the balcony, watching the water flow back and forth, crashing against the rocks that obscure its path.
I think of Ray. I think of my father. I think a little of Alaric. I think of Dane and Naomi and the man I'd seen beside Sam. Dane had mentioned in the passing that Tim had been found, but I'd been too tipsy to care.
My door swings open and I tilt my head to the side, watching Sinclair walk in. I don't move from the railing when he shuts the door behind him, eyes searching the room for me.
I stroll into the room slowly, eyeing him sceptically. He seems...off.
His anger seems to have waned and his face is a cool, smooth mask, giving nothing away. He seems relaxed as he dumps four large shopping bags on the bed, each filled to the brim with clothes
