ZURI

The air inside my chambers was heavy. The golden light from the afternoon sun stretched lazily across the rug, painting long, uneven lines on the floor that seemed to mock the stillness between Denny and me.

He stood by the table with his back to me while his eyes were on the floor like he was counting the grains in the wood.

“Denny,” I called softly.

He didn’t move.

I folded my arms, trying to hide the anxious twist building in my stomach. He’d been silent for too long. The ...