Back in My Office, the Skyline Holds Her Gaze
The Range Rover’s dust still clung to my mind as I stared at the glass wall of my office, the city lights flickering like distant fireflies.
Laura’s face swam behind the traffic, her eyes—those tired, pleading eyes—still haunting the empty space where my thoughts lived.
I pressed my thumb against the cool metal of the desk, feeling the lingering vibration of the phone that hadn’t stopped buzzing since the call to Marcus Reed.
“Grant, you really think we can pull this off?” Serena’s voice echoed in my head, half‑laughing, half‑concerned.
My fingers curled around the handset. “Marcus, I need you to dig up whatever you can on Laura. Anything—bank trails, old emails, the whole mess.”
The line clicked, a promise hanging between us. I told him the retainer would be “generous,” enough to make a shark smile.
Outside, the wind whispered between skyscrapers, carrying the distant hum of traffic and a memory of a woman clutching two infants.
“If she’s hiding something, I’ll find it,” I muttered, the words tasting like iron.
My eyes drifted back to the skyline. The sun was setting, painting the glass in amber. The city seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the truth I was about to unleash.
