The polished marble floors of Henderson & Associates reflected the afternoon sun, an obvious contrast to the storm brewing within Melinda. Her hand firmly clutched her purse, knuckles white, as the elevator ascended, each floor a ticking moment closer to salvation or further heartache, as the case was going to be. Brenda, the receptionist, a commiserating smile on her face, welcomed Melinda as she stumbled out."Mrs. Melinda Sterling, Mr. Henderson is waiting for you," Brenda said softly, noticing the paleness of Melinda's face. "Go in."Melinda nodded, a silent thank you, and pushed open the solid oak door to Mr. Henderson's office. The room, which smelled of old books and leather, usually had a soothing effect, but today it was a pressure cooker. Mr. Henderson, a man in his late-fifties with kind eyes and a distinguished grey temple, rose from behind his huge mahogany desk."Melinda, sit down, please," he said, gesturing to the plush armchair opposite him. His voice was a warm comfo
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