“Did he need something?”
“I… I don’t know,” she answered.
And that was the worst part.
She didn’t know.
Thomas nodded slowly, though uncertainty lingered in his expression.
“Well,” he said gently, attempting to shift the atmosphere, “perhaps he realized it wasn’t the right time.”
The right time.
The phrase burned.
Lana lowered her gaze quickly, terrified that her emotions were written too clearly across her face.
She felt as though her chest were on fire — panic, frustration colliding violently inside her.
Why had Martin come?
After last night — after walking away with that look on his face — what could he possibly have wanted?
Thomas returned to the living room, attempting light conversation.
He commented on the weather.
On a new project at Specter Industries.
On how she sh
