Amelia’s POV

I sat in the reception area of Hartwell & Associates, the suit jacket Harper gifted me, pulled tight around me. The office is nice—not Sterling Holdings nice, but respectable. Mid-tier investment firm, according to the website I’d researched obsessively last night. Glass walls, modern furniture, the kind of place that tries to look more successful than it probably is.

My hands won’t stop shaking.

I called yesterday morning, mentioned Nathan Cole’s name, and ...