Amelia’s POV

The law office smelled like leather and old money, a scent that reminded me too much of Daniel's study. I sat across from Jonathan Reeves, Daniel's lawyer, watching him arrange papers on his mahogany desk with the precision of someone who'd done this a thousand times before. His suit probably cost more than my current month's rent, and the abstract art on his walls screamed success in a language I no longer spoke.

He slid papers across the polished surface, his manicured fingers ...