Chapter 18 Cracks In The Armor

• The following morning, Nina woke again to the faint rhythmic guttural and thud sounds. Must he do this each morning?
• She stared at the ceiling, reluctantly listening. Gradually, the sounds stirred something strange in her chest.
• She began to picture him: the way his shoulders tensed beneath his black shirt, the precision in his movements. He didn’t strike her as the kind of man who worked out for vanity, no. He did it the way soldiers sharpened blades. To maintain control. To stay ready.