Mag-log inWe pass a group of teens on e-scooters, a couple tangled in their own hands and hair, and then we’re alone again, the trees making a tunnel of privacy. I keep reading, even as my feet move on their own, and only stop when we reach the narrow footbridge over the drainage creek—water barely moving, mo
“You could have sent this to the FBI,” I say, flipping pages, not looking up. He snorts. “You know as well as I do, that’s a death sentence. For me, for you, for half the witnesses inside these walls.” He looks at the pond, the way the wind skims the surface, making even water look nervous. “I want
I set the phone down so hard the battery cover pops loose. I don’t bother to fix it. I return to the files, to the graveyard of what passes for a life, and start marking up the next phase of the plan. If I’m going to let Lucas back in, even for a minute, I need to be ready for everything he might do
The city at this hour is a test of willpower. Even eighty floors up, it presses in—crushing, faceless, indifferent. The only thing more relentless is the silence inside my own skull. The office has been stripped down to essentials: a lamp, a desk, and me, the last organism standing. The air, when I
Reynolds is smart; that’s the whole problem. He’s built his accusation on a lattice of “concern” and “unexplained deviations,” every line engineered to sound plausible while remaining deniable. No hard evidence, but just enough smoke for the board to believe there’s a fire. I grab a legal pad and s
He shrugs. “Consider it a professional courtesy. The real show will start in the morning. I thought you’d appreciate a head start.” He picks up my pen, twirls it between his fingers, leaves a shallow groove in the finish. “You’ve always been… unpredictable, Mara. But this?” He gestures to the letter
I let them watch me as I unfurl into motion, as I take my time, a tigress stretching beneath a lazy sun. The documents make a soft, lethal sound as they hit the glass, echoing back to fill the silence. These papers are my arsenal, my map to the battlefield I will carve from this sterile room. I ar
The air thrums with ambition, the kind that leaves marks like teeth on skin. I step into the boardroom, a half dozen pairs of eyes pulling toward me as if gravity's force has just shifted. The glass walls loom like a watchful sky, reflections doubling back on themselves, encasing us in a tower of ou
I gather the pieces of myself and leave the office. My own intentions are as fractured as his. I cannot think straight with the scent of him so fresh, so insistent, so much like a promise. The door swings shut behind me, cutting off the warmth and memory of Derek's presence with surgical precision
I stiffen, a snarl forming at the back of my throat, before I manage to smooth it into something more civil, more human. This is not what I expected, not what I am prepared for. I should have known. I should have known he'd come. "Mara," his voice drawls, easy and confident, but I hear the challeng







