Morning came slowly.
Adeline had barely slept.
She sat on the edge of the bed in Jarvis's apartment, wrapped in a thick blanket, staring at the untouched cup of tea on the table.
The events of the previous night kept replaying in her mind.
The envelope.
The phone call.
The darkness.
The sound behind her.
And then Jarvis.
She remembered his hand around hers as he pulled her outside.
She remembered the fear in his eyes.
But she still couldn't remember seeing anyone.
That was the worst part.
She didn't know whether there had actually been someone inside the building or whether the killer had simply wanted her to believe there was.
Jarvis entered the room carrying another cup.
"You should drink something."
"I'm not thirsty."
"You haven't had anything since last night."
"I'm fine."
He placed the cup down.
"You're not."
Adeline looked at him.
"Did you see anyone?"
Jarvis paused.
"No."
"Then how do you know someone was there?"
"I don't."
She frowned.
"You don't?"
"I heard something."
"So did I."
Jarvis pulled out a chair and sat opposite her.
"I searched the building after we left."
"And?"
"Nothing."
Adeline stared at him.
"Nothing?"
"No sign of anyone."
She looked down.
The uncertainty was worse than certainty.
"So maybe I imagined it."
"No."
Jarvis's answer came immediately.
"You didn't."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I saw the envelope."
Adeline looked at him.
Jarvis's expression softened.
"You didn't imagine that."
She swallowed.
"No."
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Jarvis reached across the table.
His fingers brushed hers.
Adeline didn't pull away.
"You're safe now," he said.
She looked at him.
"Am I?"
Jarvis didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
By afternoon, Adeline couldn't stand being inside anymore.
She needed to get away.
She needed noise.
People.
Something that would stop her mind from returning to the previous night.
So she went to a small bar several streets away.
She told herself she was only going to have one drink.
One.
Then another appeared.
Then another.
Soon, the warmth of the alcohol began replacing the fear in her chest.
She laughed at something the bartender said.
She wasn't even sure it was funny.
Another drink.
Then another.
Her phone vibrated.
JARVIS: Where are you?
She ignored it.
A few minutes later, another message arrived.
JARVIS: Adeline, answer me.
She turned the phone face down.
She didn't want protection.
Not tonight.
She didn't want questions.
She didn't want Davies.
She didn't want Jarvis.
She didn't want anyone.
She wanted to forget.
The bartender placed another drink in front of her.
Adeline stared at it.
"Maybe I shouldn't."
"Probably not," a voice beside her said.
She looked sideways.
Jarvis.
Her eyes widened.
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you."
"I didn't ask you to."
"I know."
He sat beside her.
Adeline turned back to her drink.
"You always do this."
"Do what?"
"Show up."
"Someone has to."
She laughed bitterly.
"Why?"
Jarvis studied her.
"Because I care about you."
She looked at him.
For a moment, something changed between them.
Adeline's eyes were glassy from the alcohol.
Jarvis's feelings, which he had spent weeks burying, became harder to control.
"You shouldn't be drinking like this."
"Why?"
"Because you're hurting."
"I'm always hurting."
"Adeline…"
She looked away.
"I just want one night where nobody expects anything from me."
Jarvis's expression softened.
"You don't have to pretend with me."
She turned toward him.
"Then let me forget."
His breathing slowed.
"Adeline…"
She leaned closer.
Jarvis didn't move away.
For one dangerous moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to hold her.
To tell her everything.
To stop pretending he was only protecting her.
His hand slowly lifted toward her face.
He almost touched her cheek.
Almost.
Then Adeline whispered,
"Davies would never let me do this."
Jarvis's hand stopped.
The mention of Davies cut deeper than he expected.
"You still think about him."
Adeline looked down.
"I don't know what I think anymore."
Jarvis's jaw tightened.
"Do you love him?"
She didn't answer.
That was enough.
Jarvis looked away.
His feelings were suddenly mixed with jealousy, guilt, and anger.
He leaned closer again.
For a second, he nearly kissed her.
Then he stopped himself.
His hand dropped.
"No."
Adeline looked at him.
"What?"
Jarvis stood.
"You don't know what you're doing right now."
She frowned.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're drunk."
"I know."
"And I'm not going to take advantage of that."
His voice was strained.
Adeline stared at him.
Something in his expression made her realize what he had almost done.
She looked away.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
Jarvis took a step back.
"I should be the one apologizing."
Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened.
Both turned.
Davies stood there.
Adeline froze.
Jarvis's expression hardened instantly.
For several seconds, the three of them stared at one another.
And none of them knew that this was only the beginning.