QUEEN sat hunched over the edge of her cream leather couch in her San Francisco penthouse, her laptop perched on her crossed legs, phone on speaker beside her as she flipped through a document that desperately needed her sign-off before the next board meeting. The glow of the late afternoon sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, but her mind wasn’t here, it was still half with Oswald, half with the mess piling up at the company.

A faint voice crackled from the small TV mounted in the corner, background noise she had left on to keep the silence from swallowing her whole. She barely paid attention until a...