[150 Days Left to Live]
The morning light crept softly into the apartment, casting a golden glow over the dining room. The kettle on the stove whistled, releasing steam into the air, and the quiet hum of the fridge was the only other sound.
Kendrick sat at the kitchen counter, his hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee. The smell was comforting, but his eyes were distant, fixed on the digital tablet resting in front of him.
He tapped the screen and pulled up the latest surveillance feed. A grainy image of a hotel corridor flickered into view. The figure on-screen, Barmon Diamond, strode past the camera, wearing sunglasses and a neutral expression. Same clothes as yesterday. Same movements. Same dead-end routine.
Kendrick narrowed his eyes.
For the past few days, Kendrick had been spending most of his time inside a sealed, high-tech monitoring room tucked behind a hidden panel in their apartment.
