Too Late, Mr. Winters: I'm No Victim

beep. It clicked, a heavy, mechanical sound that

d the stee

ely different. The air was colder. The faint, warm scent of sandalwood that usually clun

ntryway mat. Her fuzzy g

just below her ribs. She didn't look for them. She saw the b

her lungs through her

ht slump of the shoulders. The girl from the

into the

tan skyline, his back to her. He stood tall, his posture rigid, a silhouette

nt and shadow, stepped into

It wasn't a greeti

s on the Italian marble coffee tabl

letters on the cover page: NON-DISCLOSU

t," Ell

h the room without warmth. He still didn't t

. It was a reflex to keep from screaming.

g on the document. It was heavy, cold

for financial discrepancies in the dark web's mes

ence regarding all Winter

ture of all claims

: Lump sum

sloppy. A junior lawyer's mistake. Her hand twitched with the

his wasn't an audit. T

ar piece of paper acro

llion

trading charge she had quietly deflected for Winters Cap

ed before she could catch it-a dry, sharp

shoulders

tur

ally dark with secrets, were searching hers for tears. He expec

nothing. Her e

said, his voice devoid of inflection. "The marri

he name tasted like bile. Her own family. The ones

e said. Her voice

Woods. The letters were ne

the document back to Silas

looking straight into Ellery's eyes. "I

ack of hysteria was throwing him off balance. He took a step fo

ned on h

llow her. "Arla,

ed a han

the cold metal handle, looking back at the gra

heavy door slammed sh

ored wall. Her breath fogged the glass. For one second, he

ll dinged fo

he mirror wen

rner phone. She punched in a code. The screen l

e Fitzgera