The morning sun bled gold over the skyline, but inside the car, the air felt strangely thick.
She didn’t know where he was taking her.
But it wasn’t to coffee.
Maya’s throat tightened. Her fingers itched to reach for her phone, but it was buried deep in her bag — and her limbs felt too slow, too heavy. Her heartbeat thudded louder with every second, but her body… her body was slipping. Numb. Disconnected.
Outside the window, the buildings smeared into colorless shapes. Her stomach twisted.
Two hours of sleep. That had to be it. Or the stress. The fourteen-hour shift. The relentless pressure.
Her hands rested in her lap like stone.
Beckett’s voice floated from the driver’s seat — casual, low — but the words scattered before they reached her.
She turned her head toward him slowly.
H
