Selene had both hands tangled in her hair as she stared at the photos scattered across her desk like a crime scene. Each image cut her deeper, and with every glance her grip tightened, her jaw locked, rage simmering in her eyes.

Then, slowly, she inhaled. Straightened. Forced her face into that soft, professional smile she wore so well.

“Thank you for this, Michael. Eileen will settle you accordingly,” she said, her voice steady though her chest ached.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave ...