The morning sky hung heavy, gray clouds pressing low as if holding back a storm ready to break at any second. Rosemary stood by the window of her modest apartment, staring at the drizzle that streaked down the glass. Her eyes were swollen, her face pale and weary. She hadn’t slept all night — Adrian’s face, the moment he signed Cassandra’s release papers, kept haunting her like a curse she couldn’t wake from.

Her phone rang.

Adrian Deveraux.

She stared at the screen for a long time… then swiped the red button.

But it rang again. And again.

With a frustrated sigh, she snatched the phone. “What more do you...