The heavy oak door shut behind Roman with a muted click, sealing Julie inside the quiet of his private room.
For a moment, his expression softened—still carrying the imprint of her smile, the warmth of her resting against him.
But the corridor outside was darker, colder, as though the walls themselves remembered things better left buried.
Then it happened.
A sudden flicker of motion ahead. One of the side doors jerked open, only to close just as quickly.
Too quick. Too deliberate. The kind of movement that reeked of someone trying not to be seen.
Roman stopped mid-step. His eyes narrowed, his senses sharpening like a blade leaving its sheath.
He had spent years reading people, gauging intent from the smallest gestures. And this… this was no lost guest. This was someone hiding.
His jaw tightened, the warm composure from moments ago falling away.
He stood still, gaze fixed on the door, his mind already dissecting the twitch of fabric, the hurried hand on the doorknob.
