KAIREN
The first thing I felt when I walked into my office was the weight of the silence. It wasn't the good kind. It was the heavy, expectant kind that usually meant someone had died, or was about to.
My head was still buzzing from the three cups of coffee I'd choked down, a pathetic attempt to outrun the nightmare that had woken me at 4 AM...
I tossed my jacket onto the couch, the movement too sharp, too loud in the tomb-like room. I was about to collapse into my chair when I saw it.
A small, black velvet box sat centered on my otherwise empty desk. No bow. No flourish. Just a stark, square shape against the dark wood, looking less like a gift and more like a condemnation.
My stomach tightened. Only one person left presents like landmines.
I didn't want to touch it. My fingers felt clumsy as I flipped the lid open. The light caught the face of a wristwatch, all cold platinum and sapphires so dark they looked black.
