The lawyer’s office smelled like rot and paper. Old coffee too, sour in the corner, like it had been there for days. The lamp on the desk flickered, buzzed so loud it made her teeth hurt. Shadows kept twitching across stacks of files, all those dusty edges. Window cracked open—sea air seeping in, briny, sharp, cutting her nose.

Camille sat stiff, couldn’t move. Like if she shifted even a little the chair would swallow her whole. Her heart was banging too fast, too hard, like it didn’t want to stay inside her ribs. Ellen’s journal… no, worse—her lawyer’s voice in her head, hammering: Surrender Ellie or lose everything. The words...