Isabella's POV

The door clicks shut. I drop into my chair. My fingers press against my temples where the headache pulses.

The folder. I need to look at it again. Make sure I understand what I'm doing. Derek's face flashes through my mind. Thirty-four years. Thirty-four years of partnership. Of trust.

Gone.

I pull the drawer open. The folder's weight feels heavier than it should as I lift it onto the desk. Papers whisper as I spread ...