Darkness.
Still there.
Unchanged.
Unmoving.
It didn't feel like morning.
Or night.
Or anything.
Time had slipped.
Lost somewhere between the door closing…
And never opening again.
Sebastian didn't move.
He was still in the corner.
Curled slightly.
Back pressed against the wall.
One knee drawn up.
The other stretched just enough to keep balance.
His shirt was wrinkled now.
Sleeves creased.
Collar slightly open.
Tie gone.
His hair had fallen out of place.
Messier than he ever allowed it to be.
His eyes were open.
But unfocused.
Staring into the dark like it might give something back.
It didn't.
His breathing was slow.
Too slow.
Like he was conserving energy.
Or forgetting to breathe altogether.
The first day had been noise.
Shouting.
Resistance.
Control trying to hold.
The second day—
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
It settled into him.
Into his chest.
Into his bones.
The door opened.
Sudden.
Sharp.
Light spilled in.
Too bright.
Too much.
Sebastian didn't flinch this time.
Didn't move.
Footsteps.
Quick.
Uninterested.
A plate hit the floor.
Hard.
The sound echoed.
Loud in the small space.
"…Eat."
Flat.
Cold.
Sebastian's eyes shifted slightly.
Toward the voice.
"…What day is it…"
His voice was rough.
Dry.
Like it hadn't been used properly in a while.
A pause.
Then—
"It doesn't matter."
Same tone.
Same emptiness.
"…It does," Sebastian said quietly.
No answer.
The footsteps turned.
The door closed.
The lock clicked.
Darkness again.
Immediate.
Total.
Sebastian's gaze lingered on where the door had been.
For a second longer.
Then faded.
The plate sat a few feet away.
Food untouched.
Cold.
Like the last one.
And the one before that.
Time passed.
Or maybe it didn't.
His throat felt dry.
His body heavy.
But he didn't move.
Didn't reach.
Didn't try the door.
That part of him had already burned out.
His fingers twitched slightly.
Against the floor.
Then stilled again.
His lips parted slightly.
"…Let me out…"
Quiet.
Almost nothing.
No response.
Of course not.
His eyes closed briefly.
Then opened again.
Still dark.
Still the same.
His head tilted back against the wall.
A soft thud.
Barely noticeable.
"…Stop…" he whispered.
But nothing stopped.
Because nothing was happening.
And somehow that was worse.
New York—
Light flooded through Sovereign.
Bright.
Busy.
Alive.
Phones ringing.
Keyboards tapping.
Voices overlapping.
Normal.
Everything was normal.
Except—
Lillian wasn't.
She sat at her desk.
Phone in her hand.
Screen lit.
Same messages.
Same time stamps.
No reply.
Her thumb hovered.
Pressed call.
The ringing started.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Voicemail.
Again.
She exhaled slowly.
Lowered the phone.
"…Okay," Chloe said from across the desk.
Arms crossed.
Eyes narrowed.
"…No."
Lillian looked up.
"…No what?"
Chloe stepped closer.
"…No more pretending this is fine."
A pause.
"…Where is he?"
"Washington," Lillian answered quietly.
"I know that," Chloe said.
"…I mean where is he really?"
Lillian's grip tightened on her phone.
"…He's with his family."
Chloe's expression didn't change.
"…And that makes you feel better?"
Silence.
Lillian looked down again.
"…He's just busy."
Chloe let out a short breath.
"…Sebastian Wolfe does not ignore you for two days because he's busy."
Flat.
Certain.
"…He always answers," Lillian whispered.
Her voice softer now.
Less sure.
Chloe nodded once.
"…Exactly."
A pause.
"…So something's wrong."
The words sat between them.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Lillian shook her head slightly.
"…No… he would've said something."
"…Unless he can't," Chloe replied.
That hit differently.
Lillian looked up sharply.
"…What does that mean?"
Chloe held her gaze.
"…It means you need to stop assuming everything is fine."
Silence.
Lillian hit call again.
The ringing filled the space.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Voicemail.
Again.
She ended it faster this time.
Her chest tightened.
"…I don't like this," she admitted.
Quiet.
Real.
Chloe softened slightly.
"…Then don't ignore it."
Lillian swallowed.
"…What am I supposed to do?"
Chloe tilted her head.
"…We find out what's going on."
Darkness.
Still.
Unchanging.
Sebastian shifted.
Barely.
His shoulder pressing harder into the wall.
His hand moved.
Slowly.
Dragging against the floor.
Toward the plate.
Not urgent.
Not even fully intentional.
Just… movement.
His fingers touched the edge.
Paused.
Then curled slightly.
He didn't pick it up.
Not yet.
His breathing changed.
Subtle.
Less shallow.
Still uneven.
But different.
His head lowered slightly.
Chin dipping toward his chest.
"…Eat…"
The word came out quietly.
Like he was repeating something.
Not telling himself.
Remembering it.
His grip tightened slightly on the plate.
But he didn't lift it.
Not yet.
His chest rose.
Fell.
Then—
"…Lillian…"
Soft.
Barely there.
But real.
New York—
Lillian stood now.
Near the window.
Phone still in her hand.
She stared at the city.
But didn't see it.
Chloe watched her from behind.
Quiet for once.
"…He would've answered," Lillian said again.
More firmly this time.
Like she needed to believe it.
"…He always does."
Chloe nodded slowly.
"…Then something's stopping him."
Lillian turned.
"…Or he just doesn't want to talk."
The words didn't even sound convincing.
Chloe raised an eyebrow.
"…You don't believe that."
Lillian looked down at her phone.
"…No."
A pause.
"…I don't."
Her thumb hovered again.
Didn't press call this time.
Just… stayed there.
"…Where are you…" she whispered.
Darkness.
Silence.
Unmoving.
Sebastian sat in the corner.
Still.
Quiet.
Alone.
His head rested against the wall.
Eyes half-lidded now.
Tired.
His hand still on the plate.
Not moving.
Not letting go.
"…Let me out…"
Soft.
Broken.
No answer.
Only silence.
"…Lillian…"
Miles away—
She stood in the light.
Phone in her hand.
Heart tightening with every second.
Waiting.
"…Where are you…?"