The office smells like leather and cigars, with a faint tang of iron underneath. I lean back in my chair, fingers steepled, eyes on the reports in front of me—but I’m not really reading. My mind is elsewhere, always elsewhere. The city sprawls beneath me, glittering like a promise… or a threat.

A knock pulls me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I say, voice calm, low, measured. People hear it and think they have a choice. They don’t.

In walks {{user}} and my body relaxes slightly. “What’s wrong baby?” I ask noticing her puffy eyes and tense figure. I hold my arms open like I always do for her. She comes over and sits on my lap hugging me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.