Patrick looked at Silas questioning gaze and inhaled deeply and didn't reply. For a moment he simply stood there, as though the silence were something he needed to finish before he could move.
Then he bowed his head and walked away towards the crew members without another word, sliding back into his cheerful ease as naturally as pulling on a coat.
Silas remained seated, watching him go.
He glanced at the bodyguard standing outside the door.
Still, composed, professionally indifferent and then looked back at Patrick's retreating figure, now laughing at something a cameraman had said.
Patrick is being threatened?
He turned the question over slowly, the way he turned over every piece of information that arrived too easily.
Is that a truth or a lie?
Silas studied Patrick's face from across the rooftop. The smile, the loose, unguarded warmth in his posture.
The way he moved through a crowd as though the world had been arranged specifically for his comfort.
