Dane's POV
Ahh… the fresh air. After such a long flight, it feels good against my skin. I sink back into the car seat, watching the cold morning air blur past the window. Thailand was beautiful—the people, the colors, the sea. I'll miss it. Next time, I tell myself, I'll go again, but alone, so I can truly enjoy it.
The car slows to a stop in front of my apartment building. Secretary Joe climbs out from the driver's side and comes around, pulling my suitcase from the trunk.
"Mr. Dane," he says gently, "allow me to take your bag upstairs."
I shake my head with a small smile. "Thanks, Joe, but I can handle it myself. You've already done enough." My fingers curl around the suitcase handle as I wave him off. "Get some rest."
He nods politely, and I head inside. The wheels of my luggage hum softly over the floor tiles. I pull out my phone, trying to switch it on—but the screen stays black. Dead.
