Andrew Lane fell silent for a moment, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “I’m here to meet a client.”
Emily Blair followed up naturally, “And where’s your client now? You came all the way over here—what about them?”
“It’s all taken care of,” Andrew replied.
“Oh,” Emily said quietly.
A hush settled between them. For several minutes, the only sounds were their footsteps echoing down the dim corridor.
Emily lowered her gaze, squinting in an effort to follow the rhythm of Andrew’s stride. After a short distance, she lifted a hand and poked him gently in the back.
He turned his head slightly, his voice deep and steady. “What is it?”
“Do you even know where I’m supposed to go?” she asked softly.
“The ballroom,” Andrew answered without a hint of hesitation.
Emily paused, surprised. “How did you know that?”
He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I saw you heading that way earlier.”
She glanced at his back. “How much farther?”
“Almost there.”
Emily bit her lip.
She was almost certain now—she had night blindness. No matter how long she spent in the dark, her eyes never seemed to adjust. The world around her stayed stubbornly out of focus, forcing her to rely on someone else just to find her way out. The helplessness of it made her unusually irritable and impatient.
The more anxious she felt, the quieter she became.
Suddenly, Andrew stopped.
Emily, caught off guard, walked right into him, her nose bumping painfully against his back. She winced, stepping back and cupping her nose, her voice muffled by her hand. “Why’d you stop?”
Andrew turned to face her, reaching for her wrist and pulling her closer.


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