The silence in the room was starting to weigh heavy and suffocating. The wooden clock on the wall ticked on, persistent and patient, marking the seconds as they crawled by. Williams had been sitting there, eyes boring into Charlotte with the kind of intensity that could peel skin. But she didn't flinch. She never did.
"You want to know where she is, and I know where she is," Charlotte finally spoke, her voice slicing through the heavy quiet like a blade. Her eyes didn't leave his. "I would have loved to tell you where she is, Williams, but the only problem is that I cannot tell you."
Her words settled into the air like a slow-falling feather, yet they hit him with the weight of a mountain.
Williams blinked. Once. Twice. His mouth opened, then closed. Thoughts swarmed his mind like a thousand hornets, stinging him with fury, confusion, desperation. His fingers twitched at his sides, clenching, unclenching, until he finally managed to speak.
"Why can't you tell me?"
