(Casey’s POV)
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I didn’t answer Liam. Not with words. What could I say when his fears were genuine and my very actions were questionable? What could I say that could allay his fears and restore his faith in in that very mont?
Instead, I picked up my tablet, not even looking at him, and began walking toward the door with the kind of grim, chanical purpose that made it clear—I was barely hanging on by a thread.
But Liam wasn’t about to let off that easily. It was clear as day that he wanted answers, and he wouldn’t let go until he got them.
He moved faster than I expected, stepping into my path and blocking , his arms folded tightly across his chest, his face taut with a mix of disbelief and frustration.
"Seriously?" he bit out. "What the fuck are you doing? You’re gonna have to give an answer, boss!"
I paused, my jaw tightening. I still didn’t want to speak. Not because I didn’t have words—but because if I started talking, I didn’t know if I’d be able to stop. Everything was balancing on the edge of sothing dangerous. Every second I spent in this office pretending to be functional was like dancing on glass barefoot.
"I’m talking to you!" Liam snapped. "Since you don’t want to grant that courtesy."
I turned slowly and slamd the tablet back down on the desk, the slap of it echoing through the room like a gunshot. "Fine," I hissed, the veneer of composure cracking at last. "You want honesty? You want the truth? Here it is."
He didn’t move, pinning securely with his gaze.
"I’m not trying to sabotage the company," I said, my voice cold and low, vibrating with barely contained energy. "I know how that eting looked. I know I sounded like soone who didn’t give a shit. But the truth is—I’m not in a good place right now, Liam. I’m not okay."
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into the soft skin of my palms.
"I’m pretty fucked up, as you can clearly see," I continued, staring him down now. "And that’s why I can’t make any business decisions at the mont. Not a single one. No matter how perfect the deal looks, no matter how much money it promises, no matter how high the company could fly if I just smiled and said yes."
The silence that followed was razor-sharp. Liam didn’t speak, didn’t argue. His eyes studied mine, but sothing in his expression shifted—he saw it now. The thin crack in the mask. The spiral beneath.
After a beat, he exhaled heavily and stepped back. His shoulders slumped a little. Less defensive. More... understanding.
"This is about Kira, isn’t it?" he said, his voice softer, almost hesitant. "There’s still no word from Janet, is there?"
While it was a question, it sounded like sothing else. A statent.
And yet it felt like the only one that mattered.
I looked away. I didn’t trust myself to speak again. I didn’t want to confirm it, because saying it aloud made it real. That sothing might have happened. That sothing was happening while I was stuck here, dressed in business casual and pretending to be soone capable of planning soone else’s fairytale.
"I keep checking my phone every five minutes," I finally murmured, staring past him at nothing. "No ssages. No missed calls. Nothing but that fucking empty screen."
Liam sat down heavily on the edge of the desk. The anger that had been simring in him monts ago had drained out, replaced with sothing quieter—concern.
"She said she’d text as soon as she got to Paragon Park," I muttered, more to myself than to Liam. The words barely made it past the tightness in my throat. "That was over fifteen minutes ago."
Liam shifted beside , trying to keep his tone calm, composed—like soone talking to a bomb that might go off if they breathed wrong. "That’s not unusual, right?" he said, voice soft. "Could be traffic. You know how insane it gets around that area this ti of day. Tourists, buses, school runs..."
I shook my head, slowly, deliberately, the denial settling deep in my bones. "I don’t know, man. It just feels... off." I stepped backward, needing distance from Liam, from logic, from his well-aning rationalizations. "She’s taking too long to get to Paragon Park. Like, what the hell could be keeping her? It’s not that far from the terminal. She told she’d update every step of the way."
He sighed, folding his arms. "Just give her ti."
"Yeah..." I murmured, though the word felt hollow, like a brittle shell collapsing in my mouth. "I just have to hold on."
The lie sat heavy on my tongue as I picked up the tablet again, pretending like I could focus on anything written on its screen. But the words bled together—contracts, invoices, floral arrangents—none of it mattered. Not while Janet’s silence thickened around like fog creeping in from the edges of a darkened pier.
Without another word, I turned and walked away. Back to my office. My limbs moved on autopilot, like I was sleepwalking through a nightmare. The mont I stepped inside, I kicked the door shut behind , hard enough to rattle the glass.
I collapsed into my chair like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. The cushion hissed under my weight, but its embrace wasn’t the comfort I was searching for. The silence in the room felt loud—too loud—amplifying the thoughts echoing in my skull.
What if sothing happened to her?
What if she got off the bus and never made it inside?
What if that argunt Kira and I had—those sharp, stupid words—were the last ones I ever said to her?
What if... what if... what fucking if!!!
The thoughts clawed at my insides like sothing feral. Regret. Guilt. Fear. They were all tangled together, wrapping themselves around my ribcage like barbed wire.
I glanced at my phone again. Still nothing. Just that blank, mocking lock screen. I tapped it once. Twice. As if that might summon a ssage. Or rewind ti. Or change the story I feared I was living through.
Then—like a divine interruption—the phone buzzed violently in my hand.
My heart lunged into my throat. For half a second, I froze, paralyzed by the possibilities. Then I flipped it over, and her na glowed on the screen:
It was Janet. Finally!
I didn’t wait for the second vibration. The instant I saw Janet’s na flash across the screen, I swiped to answer—so quickly, the phone nearly slipped from my hand. My heart thundered in my chest like it was trying to escape. My voice cracked as I spoke, raw with panic and desperate relief.
"Janet?! Thank God. Are you okay? Where are you? What the hell happened? What took you so fucking long?"
For a heartbeat, all I could hear was static—hollow, distant—like she was calling from the edge of the world. In this short mont, I thought up all crazy scenarios, imagined her in so many bad positions... then, finally, her voice filtered through.
"Hey," she said, and just that—just hearing her—nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.
She sounded shaky, uneven. A little breathless. But alive. Alive.
"I’m here. I’m at Paragon Park," she said. "There was... a little problem on the bus I took. So guy up front started yelling at the driver—he wouldn’t sit down, said he saw soone following him or sothing. Security had to step in. It took a while to sort out. But I’m here now."
As she spoke, a wave of relief crashed over , fierce and overwhelming. My knees buckled, and I sank back into the chair behind , the edge biting into my spine. My free hand reached out blindly, gripping the edge of the desk like it was the only thing tethering to the earth.
"Jesus, Janet..." I exhaled shakily. "You scared the hell out of ."
"I know," she murmured. "I’m sorry."
"No, I’m just—" I cut myself off, ran a hand over my face. "I’m just glad you’re okay. So, where exactly are you in Paragon Park right now?"
There was a pause. The kind that grows heavy in your ear. The kind that makes ti slow, your breath catch, your stomach twist with sothing primal.
Then she answered. Quietly. Calmly. But with a weight that landed hard in my chest.
"Where else?" she said. "I’m in Kira’s house."
My blood went cold. It was as if we were finally at the mont of reckoning. This was going to be the mont I’d find out whether my fears are unfounded or not.
Silence wrapped itself around like a noose. I stared at the far wall, unmoving, the words echoing in my mind.
Kira’s house.
It was as if I was scared of all the ways this particular act could go. Janet was finally in Kira’s house, and once she opened the door and took the step in, there was no turning back. I would know for sure what I’m dealing with, and I won’t have to speculate anymore.
Did I have the strength to do this regardless?
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