“Elena,” her father’s voice boomed from the living room, “do me a favor, would you? Take this folder over to Marcus. He needs it for a meeting tomorrow. I would do it myself but I have somewhere to be in a few minutes”

Her stomach dipped at the sound of his name, but she forced her tone to stay casual. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. He’s home.”

Of course he was.

She grabbed the folder, its edges sharp and firm under her fingers, and slipped into her coat.

She ...