Kimberly
I sat in the cold leather chair across from Kendrick, my spine straight, my palms flat against my thighs.
The silence in his office was thick, as though the air itself refused to breathe. The ticking of the sleek gold clock on the wall behind him was the only sound, a steady metronome to the rapid beat of my heart.
He looked at me like a man who already knew all my answers.
“Do you trust me?”
The question came like a blade through the quiet, sharp and sudden.
I blinked, startled by the unexpected softness in his tone. I tried to gauge the expression on his face was polished calm, almost gentle. But his eyes… they were too still.
Like the eye of a storm. I wanted to look away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t afford to.
“No,” I answered, my voice flat.
He chuckled. “At least yo
