Unseen Eyes

Adrian did not touch anything inside Serena’s apartment unless absolutely necessary. That, more than anything, unsettled her. Most men like him would have come in acting entitled to the space, opening drawers, checking corners, making a performance of control. Adrian moved differently. He looked around with the same careful attention he gave people, cataloging without invading, watching without pretending not to. It made him harder to hate. And she hated that too.

“You live alone,” he said.

Serena leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, the coolness of the granite a small anchor. “Observant.”