He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

at my clothes, then immediately seemed to regret the motion.

“She looked what, Patricia?” Adrian stepped closer.

“I mean… I thought we have protocols for… I was just protecting the hotel’s standards,” she stammered, her voice shrinking with every syllable.

“Standards?” Adrian’s voice was deadly quiet now, which was somehow infinitely more terrifying than continue reading …