Roman's mind refused to slow as he stepped out of the cab, his thoughts looping, tangling, refusing to settle. The image of that shadow behind the curtain kept flashing, clear, undeniable. Real.
"Just trust yourself," the driver said, his voice cutting cleanly through the noise in Roman's head.
Roman turned sharply, but the car was gone, the taillights getting smaller as the car moved down the street, and the faint hum of distant traffic and the dry rustle of wind brushing past the hedges.
He frowned, a flicker of unease settling in his chest, but it passed as quickly as it came. Without lingering on it, he turned and headed toward the mansion.
The heavy doors groaned as he pushed them open, the sound echoing faintly through the vast foyer. Beige and gold stretched around him, polished, pristine, suffocating. It was too quiet, too perfect.
