Chapter Seventy-Three

Harlow

Silas’s office feels colder than the hallway, even though the air’s thicker and it smells like old cigarettes and bleach, and the moment I step inside, I feel something crawl up my spine like a warning. The walls are lined with filing cabinets and shelves full of binders that probably hold every awful detail he doesn’t want anyone else to see, and there’s a desk in the middle with stacks o