Elin's POV

The elevator dings. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead as I step back into the office, my bag heavy with secrets that taste like ash.

'Victor Scott. Lucas Scott. My uncle.'

The names circle in my head like vultures.

Linda's voice cuts through the hum of keyboards. "Well, well. Look who decided to show up." She's perched on the edge of my desk, arms crossed, that familiar sneer twisting her lips. "Busy afternoon, Elin? Which wild man were you meeting this time?"

I brush past her, ...