SILAS’S POV

Eight hours flying and thirty minutes trying to get the airport paparazzi out of my way, I sat in  my Audi, speeding down the lanes of New York. 

I was jet lagged as hell.

My eyes were heavy and my head had this damned ringing sound that made it so fucking unbearable to think.

But I couldn’t stop.

I had to see Mother as soon as possible.

Oh she must be so very scared. Sylvia would’ve cried her eyes out, worried to death. I had spent the entire flight, thinking ...