His voice was colder than ice when he spoke, each word edged with something sharp and restrained.
I didn't turn around.
"What's wrong, Chief Editor?" I asked calmly, even though my pulse had already started to pick up, beating harder against my ribs.
"Don't you owe me an explanation?" Fabian's voice rose behind me. I could hear his footsteps against the polished floor. He had gotten up. He was close now. Too close.
"An explanation for what?" I kept my tone flat, steady, almost indifferent.
"For everything," he snapped. "Why did you disappear from Q City without a word? Not a message. Not a call."
His breath brushed against the back of my neck. Warm. Too close. My body reacted before my mind did. A faint tremor ran through me. Not because I wanted him near.
But because my instincts rejected him.
"And," he continued, his voice tightening with something that sounded like jealousy, "what's your relationship with Uncle Finnick?"
My entire body stiffened.
