She did not sleep. She lay in the dark and replayed it. Marshall's face. The way he had looked at her like she was something to be managed. Sandra laughing as he steered her inside. And then that phone call, Sandra's voice, smooth and unbothered, as if warning a woman off her brother was the kind of thing she did between dinner and dessert. Mac Harlow. Sandra's brother. Cloe stared at the ceiling and turned it over. The man who had run three blocks to return her folder was the brother of the woman Marshall had secretly married. Which meant Mac was the reason Marshall had the overseas position in the first place. Sandra had leveraged her brother's company to hand Marshall a promotion, a reason to stay away, a clean excuse to build a second life. She had not known any of that until twenty minutes ago. Mac certainly did not know it at all. She thought about not going. It would be simpler. Cleaner. She could find another job, another company, another door that did not open directly
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