Knox

The moment Ben closes his laptop and gives me that small nod of agreement, I feel the real taste of victory.

I signal the waitress for the check, but then change my mind and ask her to bring the most expensive bottle they have on the shelf. She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. 

When it arrives, I pour two generous glasses. Ben and I clink them quietly. Neither of us says much. We don’t need to. 

The images are safely stored on my laptop now, locked behind a password only I know. Monica’s secret is no longer just a suspicion. It’s usable evidence.

I leave the lounge a...