Moira sat in the corner of a dimly lit hotel room, her fingers shaking as they hovered over her phone. She had done it—she had disappeared. Gone. No one knew where she was. Not her friends, not the media. Not even Matthew. And for the first time in what felt like forever, she was breathing without suffocating.

She had checked out under a different name, a name no one would recognize. The room was sparse, clinical almost, but it was hers for the night. A space away from the penthouse. Away ...