The night was unusually quiet. That kind of quiet that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, like the world is holding its breath. I stood in my office, the city sprawled out beneath me through the floor-to-ceiling windows. My glass of bourbon sat untouched on the desk, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of my laptop screen. Something felt off.

I checked my watch. 11:47 PM. She should've been back from her girls party by now. Normally, I'd have brushed it off - she hated when I smothered her with calls - but tonight, that silence wrapped around my throat like a noose.