Clara slipped into the guest room, closing the door until only a millimeter-thin crack remained. The house was enveloped in a suffocating silence, but the air felt charged, vibrating with the catastrophic energy of a detonated bomb.

She walked over to the small writing desk by the window and quiet

The morning sun bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the kitchen, casting long, harsh shadows across the white marble island.

Clara stood by the espresso machine, wearing an oversized cashmere sweater and a pair of loose linen trousers. She had foregone makeup entirely, allowing the natura

Two hours after Julian left the house, Clara’s packing was complete.

It hadn't taken long. She didn't want the expensive, soulless art Julian had purchased to impress his investor friends. She didn't want the designer furniture or the imported rugs. She had packed exactly two Louis Vuitton duffel