Third person (Narrator’s POV)Silence pressed down on them, heavy - enclosing them in its suffocating grip. She stared intently, wishing to be free, to be lost in the mist of the crowd that navigated through the cold streets of New York, to be encased in the illusion carved from happiness- yet the raw pain which stung her with every second, a reminder that she was far from anything bright and happy, told her she couldn'tHer gaze slided over to Kane, who stood afar, engrossed in his train of thought, probability on if the suspect being an insider ran through his mind. His jaw clenched so hard that she feared it might shatter into pieces; he shifted, leaning closer to the glass, his gaze sharp, calculating, fierce — unlike how it was in the hospital.She shuddered at the vivid remembrance of it. She was used to this cold, heartless and calculative Kane Callahan, not the fragile-weak one who was drowning in pain and self-blame.For the first time, he let his guard down, stripped himself
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