Jake
The penthouse felt suffocating despite its vast space. I paced back and forth in the living room, my phone clutched in one hand as the other raked through my hair. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city, but even that couldn't distract me from the chaos in my mind.
Every blog, every headline I scrolled through was plastered with Laura's face as she left the hospital. Paparazzi swarmed her, shouting questions she ignored. The pictures showed Arlene shielding her while her mom guided her through the crowd. Seeing Laura like that, vulnerable, tired, and clearly distressed, made my chest ache with guilt and frustration.
