By the time Damien reached Laura's apartment, the sky had already begun to darken.
He stepped out of the car without waiting for his driver to open the door.
His movements were quick and purposeful, his usually composed expression replaced by something far more unsettling. He had spent the entire drive trying to convince himself that Laura would be there.
She had to be.
Maybe she had simply gone somewhere to clear her head.
Maybe she was angry with him.
Maybe she was avoiding him because of everything that had happened.
But she would be there.
Damien climbed the narrow staircase two steps at a time, barely acknowledging the curious glances of the neighbors. His jaw was tightly clenched, and his hands curled into fists at his sides.
When he reached Laura's door, he stopped.
For a
