Chapter 25

IT was evening when Adrian finally returned home, the sky outside already bruised purple and blue with the coming night. The house greeted him with its usual stillness, too quiet and too large for one man. He shut the door behind him, loosened his tie with a careless tug, and dropped his briefcase on the couch like it weighed nothing and everything at the same time.

Without turning on the lights, he strode into the kitchen. His movements were mechanical, practiced. He filled a glass with water, drained it in long gulps, then reached for the bottle of wine he had left on the counter the previous night. The cork was already out. He poured, didn’t measure, and lifted the glass to his lips.

With the wine in hand, Adrian walked into the dining area.

He stopped at the doorway.

The dining table sat there, polished and untouched, the chairs neatly arranged around it. The overhead chandelier was off, but the faint glow from the hallway lights spilled in just enough t