It started with a lipstick smudge.

Sierra Lane hadn’t even noticed it until she caught her reflection in the glass wall of Mr. Cross’s office. The curve of red on her upper lip had smeared slightly, likely from nervously biting down on it all day during back-to-back meetings. Normally, she’d have run to the bathroom to fix it before daring to walk into her boss’s office—but it was late, everyone was gone, and she had one last contract to drop off before escaping this ...