Arthur said nothing during the twenty-minute drive to the estate. Both hands stayed locked around the Maybach's steering wheel, his jaw working whenever we passed under a streetlight.
He turned off the main drive and took a dark gravel road to a side entrance. After killing the engine, he came around, opened my door, and hauled me out by the upper arm.
He dragged me through an oak door, up the grand staircase, and down an unlit corridor. The room at the end turned out to be his master bathroom. He shoved me inside and locked the door behind us.
Black marble and chrome caught a strip of moonlight from the floor-to-ceiling window. Arthur let me go and paced from the locked door to the sink and back.
His breathing scraped in his throat. “Smoke. Too much smoke. Can’t breathe. Door’s blocke
