NOVA
I didn’t wait for him. I walked south on Lake Shore Drive with my coat pulled tight and my heels clicking against the pavement and no plan beyond the fact that standing still outside Victor Raines’ building felt worse than moving.
Cole caught up in four strides. Of course he did.
We didn’t speak for the first few blocks. The silence had no edge to it. No purpose. No audience. It was just two people walking in the same direction because neither of them had suggested otherwise.
Which left us with nothing to talk about.
That should have been fine. I was comfortable with silence. I had built a life around it. Silence was where I did my best thinking, my cleanest analysis, my most productive work. I had never once in my adult life felt uncomfortable walking somewhere without speaking.
