Novels by Smart Imuere

Monday returned with the brisk efficiency Emma usually appreciated. This morning, it felt exhausting.She arrived at the nonprofit ten minutes early and lost herself in work before anyone noticed she was quieter than usual. It was easier to count donated backpacks than unanswered questions.Rachel found her in the supply room, kneeling beside three open cartons. "You alphabetized the notebooks.""They were already alphabetical.""So they were." Rachel folded her arms. "That's twice in two days.""I like order.""You like avoiding conversations.""Is there a difference?""Usually." Rachel crouched beside her. "You want to tell me what happened?""I overheard something yesterday.""I remember.""I keep thinking maybe I misunderstood. And every time I convince myself I did," she closed another box, "I remember how it sounded."Rachel stayed quiet. Sometimes silence invited better answers than advice."I don't want to become suspicious of him," Emma admitted."So don't.""It's not that si

Sunday arrived wrapped in the kind of quiet that made Kingsley Manor seem less like an estate and more like a place where people simply happened to live.Emma found Ethan in the conservatory. Not with a laptop. Not with a report. Just a cup of coffee and the morning paper folded beside him."I'm beginning to think you secretly own every room in this house.""I pay the mortgage.""I suppose that helps.""You slept?""Better than you.""I slept.""Barely."He didn't argue. That counted as progress.Nathan arrived carrying a slim folder. "I apologize for interrupting.""You rarely do," Ethan said."Our investigator checked in."Emma looked away automatically. Business. She had learned that much. "I'll leave you to it.""You don't have to.""It's all right."She smiled politely and headed toward the gardens. Neither man noticed that she slowed when she reached the open French doors.Not enough to eavesdrop. Only enough to hear the next sentence."The woman has been identified."Emma's foo

Saturday mornings were not supposed to come with surprises.Emma discovered this was less a rule than a hope.She had barely finished breakfast when the front gate intercom rang. Nathan answered it. Then frowned."That's unusual.""What is?" Ethan looked up from his coffee."Mrs. Bennett is here."Silence settled over the dining room. Emma's fork stopped halfway to her plate."Margaret?" She looked at Ethan. "My father's wife."Nathan nodded once. "She says she doesn't have an appointment."Five minutes later, Margaret Bennett stood in Kingsley Manor's drawing room.She looked exactly as Emma remembered. Perfect hair. Perfect coat. Perfect posture.Only her eyes gave her away. She hadn't slept."Emma.""Margaret."Neither moved to hug the other. Margaret clasped her handbag tighter."I wasn't sure you'd see me.""I wasn't sure you'd come."That earned the smallest wince.Nathan quietly disappeared, closing the doors behind him. Ethan remained. Not speaking. Simply present.Margaret no

Friday evening traffic crawled through the city with the stubborn determination of something that had long ago accepted it wasn't going anywhere quickly.Emma glanced at the unmoving line of brake lights ahead. "We've traveled exactly twelve feet in the last five minutes."Nathan looked up from the tablet in the front seat. "Twelve and a half.""You measured?""I estimated.""You estimated half a foot?""I've had practice.""I don't know whether that's reassuring or deeply concerning.""Both."Even Ethan looked up from the folder on his lap.The fundraiser had ended nearly an hour earlier. Another charity. Another ballroom. Another reminder that Olivia's interview hadn't disappeared from public conversation.Emma had smiled when required, answered polite questions, ignored the less polite ones. Now she was simply tired.The car lurched forward a few feet, then stopped again."Accident ahead," Nathan said."How long?""Forty-five minutes, they're saying.""I suddenly miss speeches.""I

Wednesday morning arrived looking perfectly ordinary.That, Nathan had learned over the years, was usually when trouble preferred to announce itself.He was halfway through the overnight security report when one line made him stop.Unauthorized Archive Access Logged.Not successful. Timestamp: three weeks before the Kingsley wedding.Kingsley Industries received dozens of attempted intrusions every month. Most were automated. Most never made it past the first firewall.This one had. Only briefly.He picked up the phone. "Ask Mr. Kingsley whether he has ten minutes before his board call."The assistant didn't hesitate. "He'll make time."Ethan looked up as Nathan entered his office. "You've found something.""I'm not sure." Nathan placed the report on the desk.Ethan skimmed the first page. "Someone accessed our secure archives.""Yes.""They got through.""For eleven minutes.""What was taken?"Nathan slid another page across. "No money. No client records. No payroll.""Only internal

Tuesday settled quietly over Kingsley Manor. The newspapers still carried Olivia's interview. The television still debated it.Inside the estate, breakfast arrived at precisely seven-thirty. Some routines, Emma was learning, refused to acknowledge headlines.When she entered the dining room, Ethan was already there. Black coffee. Untouched toast. Three financial reports arranged in perfect alignment."You've been awake long?""Since five.""You really do enjoy mornings.""I tolerate them.""I suppose that's enthusiasm by your standards.""Probably."Nathan entered carrying another folder. "The Singapore call has moved to nine.""It was eight.""They apologized.""I doubt they meant it.""They didn't." Nathan turned to Emma. "Mrs. Kingsley, the gardeners wanted to know whether you'd still like the roses moved to the southern terrace.""They asked you?""They assumed I'd know.""I don't.""I'll go ask them myself," she said, laughing."I suspected you might."She found the gardeners beh