"Are you sure you don't want to stay for a drink?" Jake asked, breaking the silence in the car as they drove through the sleeping city.
Samantha stared out the window, her reflection ghosted over the skyline — bright lights, tall towers, and in between, shadows she couldn't quite outrun. Her voice came out low, distant. "I've had enough noise for one night."
Jake glanced at her briefly, the faintest trace of worry softening his expression. The gala had ended hours ago, but the mask she'd worn there still clung to her like second skin — beautiful, polished, and suffocating.
When they reached the penthouse, Samantha stepped out first, heels clicking on the marble floor of the lobby. Jake followed a few paces behind, his silence careful — he knew better than to push when she retreated into herself.
