The morning after that tense dinner was heavy with silence. Adam barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Emily’s terrified face and heard her voice echoing, “Richard, please…wait.” But by the time he gathered the courage to check on her that night, the house had gone quiet again. Mr. Johnson came back downstairs calm as ever, told Adam the meeting was over, and dismissed him like nothing had happened.
Now, hours later, Adam sat at the airport beside Emily, pretending to scroll through his phone. Mr. Johnson stood a few seats away, taking a call, his tone light and easy. Emily hadn’t said a single word since they arrived.
She looked pale, her eyes distant, her hands gripping her purse too tightly. When their eyes met for the first time
