Williams walked me back to my part of the house. The hallways were quiet, the kind of calm that presses on your chest and makes you notice every sound your own feet make.
For a second, I thought about knocking on Kiara’s door. But it was too late—closer to morning than night—and what was I supposed to say? Hey, someone tried to kill me, sleep well. No. I couldn’t drag her into it.
When we reached my wing, Williams opened the door, stepped inside, and scanned the room with sharp eyes. He checked the corners, the closet, and even under the bed, then gave a small nod.
“All clear.”
He stood outside my door when I went in. Feet planted wide, hands hanging loose, like he was ready to fight anyone who came close. I wanted to tell him he needed to rest. He wasn’t a machine. But I could see it
