The car ride was silent.
Two hours north of the city. Through suburbs that thinned into countryside. Then into woods.
Isabella drove. Calm. Focused.
In the back seat, she sat. Staring at nothing. Hands folded in her lap.
Atlas sat beside her. Watching her peripherally. She hadn't moved since they'd left the penthouse. Hadn't blinked. Just stared.
Gone. Still completely gone.
"We're almost there," Isabella said. Breaking the silence. "My estate. Private. Secure. No one for miles."
No response from the back seat.
Isabella glanced in the rearview mirror. Saw the empty eyes. The stillness.
"Good," she murmured. "The emptier the slate, the easier the work."
Atlas's jaw clenched. But he said nothing.
The road turned from pavement to gravel. Trees pressed close on both sides. Dense. Is
