Argent

James and I sit in Father's office as he paces around and around the room. He traces the same path from the desk to the window and over to the door and then repeats. His feet are beginning to be heavier and harder, and his fists curl and uncurl at his sides with each large step he takes.

He has not said a word since we followed him here, but I know it's just a matter of time before he explodes. This is the worst timing. I want to be here to plan our next move to help Amalie and find the assholes responsible for this, but I also...