Nicolle's POV:

Sitting in the kitchen, with the cold marble counter pressing against my elbows, I stared into the untouched glass of water as my mind replayed every detail of Namara's explanation over and over.

‘Did she really expect me to believe that nonsense?’ I thought, my suspicion gnawing at me like a persistent itch.

The story about the secretary spilling coffee sounded fake, and Alexander just happening to have spare clothes in his car? Who does that? No matter what she said, ...