The horizon was bleeding into the deep violet of a twilight that felt like the closing of an era. For Amara, every second since she had pressed the 'End Call' button on her conversation with Hansen had been a slow-motion torture.
She stood by the window, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she were trying to hold her ribs together. She felt fragile, like a piece of glass that had been struck by a hammer but hadn't quite shattered yet.
"Are you okay?" a low, resonant voice said behind her.
Amara didn't turn. She didn't have to. She felt the floor shift slightly under the weight of Darien's approach. He moved with the silence of a shadow, yet his presence was a physical pressure that filled every corner of the room. He didn't stop until he was a solid, radiating heat at her back.
