Chapter 72

I survived dinner without anyone trying to poison me or stab me under the table. That counted as a win. Marcus never showed, though, and that left an emptiness I couldn’t name.

When the meal ended, I leaned close to Clara. “I need some air.”

She didn’t argue. I didn’t go outside, though. I couldn’t face the cameras or reporters waiting to shout questions at me again. Instead, I slipped into another wing of the museum, Williams trailing behind me like my shadow.

This part of the building was closed for the evening. The lights were dim, the rooms roped off, and the air was cool and still. As I walked down the long hall, my heels clicked softly against the floor. Williams’ steady footsteps followed mine.

Then, up ahead, a door stood open. A light spilled out, sharp and bright, almost blinding compared to the dark corridor. Someone had pushed the velvet cord aside, leaving the room exposed.

I stepped in.

The sudden brightness felt like stepping into sunlight after sitting in a dark theate