Thread of Glass

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5: GOLD-EMBOSSED LIES

The elevator doors opened on the forty-first floor and Zoya walked out and stopped.

Faiyaz was sitting in the reception area, his jacket folded over one knee and his phone in his hand. He looked up almost immediately, his attention staying on her a little longer than usual before he put the phone away. Zoya was still dressed for work, her hair neat and blazer in place, but the lack of sleep was beginning to show around her eyes no matter how much she tried to hide it.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, making no effort to get up.

"When did you get here?" Zoya asked flatly, already checking the time.

Faiyaz raised a brow at the greeting. "Mm. Good to see you too. I'm doing great, by the way. Thanks for asking," he added with mock offense, spreading his hands.

Zoya rolled her eyes. "I have a doctor's appointment," she said, reaching for her bag.

"Dr. Ziegler?" Faiyaz asked as he finally stood. "I'll take you."

She glanced toward the window, already thinking about the drive and twenty minutes alone with her own head.

Faiyaz noticed. When she reached for her bag, he reached for it too, his hand closing over hers on the handle. For a second neither of them moved.

"Zoya," he said, his voice quieter now. "Let me take you."

She looked at him, then pulled her hand free. Arguing would take more energy than she had. "Fine."

…

Dr. Sheryl Ziegler's office smelled faintly of white tea and was always a little too quiet.

Zoya sat in the chair that didn't require her to be "Lead Counsel." She didn't have to hold her shoulders a certain way here. She just had to exist.

"Having those nightmares again?" Dr. Ziegler asked, her pen hovering over a notepad.

"Worse." Zoya watched a bird on the windowsill, her fingers curling into the fabric of her trousers. "Since the trial date was confirmed. Every night."

"Tell me." Dr. Ziegler set the pen down.

"It's the same. Running. Darkness, shadows. Losing them." She stopped there, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her trousers.

Dr. Ziegler glanced at her hands.

"And him?" Dr. Ziegler asked, her voice still even.

Zoya pressed her thumbnail hard into her palm. "He's in the dream. He's always in the dream."

"What does he do?" Dr. Ziegler asked gently.

"He looks at me like he hates me." She pressed her lips together. "Like he can't stand what he sees. He's never loud in the dream. That's somehow worse."

"He's here, in LA," Zoya said, her voice brittle. "I've been preparing for months, but I don't think I have anything left in me to face him."

"You have to be easy on yourself." Dr. Ziegler's voice gentled. "You can tell me everything, Zoya. You know that."

"I am trying." Zoya looked away.

"I know." Dr. Ziegler wrote on the pad, the scratch of the pen loud in the quiet. "I see it."

"The dosage," Zoya said, rubbing her thumb against her palm. "I need you to increase it."

Dr. Ziegler looked at her for a moment before asking about her sleep, the nightmares, the tremor in her hands. Only then did she reach for the prescription pad.

She came out of Dr. Ziegler's office and Faiyaz was where she had left him, leaning against the car, phone in hand, not pretending he hadn't been watching the door.

He took one look at her face and, for once, didn't say anything.

Neither of them said much on the drive to Joseph's manor. Faiyaz looked at her a couple of times, but he didn't ask about the appointment, and Zoya was grateful for that. Halfway there, her phone buzzed. UAE. Zayed Al Mansoor's people. She listened for ninety seconds without interrupting.

They had found nothing that tied Edinburgh back to her.

Good.

…

When they pulled into the drive, the front door flew open.

Riyana launched herself from the porch. Faiyaz caught her mid-air and spun her once before settling her against him. "Hi, princess! Did you miss me?" he asked as she started laughing.

"Yesh!" Riyana grabbed his face with both hands. "I missed you. I have a cat."

"I know." He tapped her nose once. "I've met Brownie."

"Mommy said you're busyyyy." She pouted.

"I'm back now," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"She's MY cat." Riyana wriggled to be let down. "And a dog. Can you play with him? Jack is Mommy's dog, but Mommy is scared of him."

Zoya stood in the doorway, her bag over her shoulder. "I am not scared of Jack."

Riyana looked at her with great patience. "Mommy. He licked your hand and you jumped and screamed."

"That was..." Zoya crossed her arms. "He came out of nowhere."

"He was walking," Riyana said.

"Exactly." Zoya pointed at her, entirely serious. "Unexpectedly."

"It was a scared noise," Riyana insisted.

Faiyaz bit his lip, his shoulders shaking.

"Don't," Zoya warned.

"I'm not doing anything," he said, his voice suspiciously steady. "Mommy is brave. Just... not with animals."

"Yeah!" Riyana laughed.

Zoya glared at Faiyaz, then looked at her daughter. "Thank you, baby. That's very helpful."

…

Zoya moved easily around the kitchen with Melissa, sleeves rolled up as she stirred the pot and reached for the spices without asking.

Melissa watched her for a moment before setting the chopping knife down. "Zoya, you need to start coming into the office again. I really need the help."

"After the trial," Zoya replied, tasting the sauce and reaching for the salt.

"You said that last month too." Melissa leaned against the counter. "Ethan can handle the day-to-day, but the real estate side is getting bigger. Between the two of you, you could take most of it off me."

Zoya gave her a tired look. "Are you offering me a job or trying to retire?"

"Both," Melissa said without hesitation. "Preferably before I turn eighty."

That pulled the smallest smile out of Zoya. "You're nowhere near eighty."

"That is not the point." Melissa picked up the knife again, then seemed to think better of whatever she was about to say. "There's something else."

Zoya kept stirring. "What?"

"Omar's been calling Dad," Melissa said.

The spoon shook once in Zoya's hand before she tightened her fingers around it.