Later, when the house had gone quiet and Mia had retreated upstairs, Lucas slipped into the bedroom he shared with Trevor. The space was dim, the city lights bleeding faintly through the tall glass windows, softening the edges of polished furniture and neatly folded clothes left by the staff.
He shrugged out of his shirt, dropping it over the armchair, and padded into the bathroom. The mirror reflected him in clean lines, thin, pale, but steady. He turned the taps, steam beginning to curl up from the tub as water rushed in, the sound filling the silence.
As he unfastened his watch and set it carefully aside, the thought pressed against him, uninvited:
Andrew Black.
