Linsy stood in the dim wash of the car’s interior light, her fingers tightening around the phone as though it were an anchor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Helwart,” she said quietly, her voice pitched low but steady. “I was wrong today. I should have stepped in sooner… I let the situation get out of hand, and it upset you. It won’t happen again.”

Her confession was swift, almost too swift , a practiced response designed to cut off confrontation before it truly began. She’d learned long ...