Kendrick
The room was cold, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones and refused to leave. I stood near the window, my back to the door, watching the frost gather on the edges of the glass.
Kimberly had been summoned an hour ago, but I knew she’d been stalling. I could feel her hesitation like a weight in the air.
The door finally creaked open, and she stepped in, her footsteps soft but deliberate. I didn’t turn around. Not yet.
“My Lord,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the room.
I let the silence stretch, the weight of it pressing down on both of us.
“Do you know why you’re here?” I asked finally, my tone low and measured.
“I have an idea,” she said, her defiance barely concealed beneath the surface.
That defiance. It was one of the things that had drawn
