ELORA

The morning haze hung low over Manhattan, casting a pale gray veil across the city skyline as I slid behind the wheel of my car. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel, the chill of the leather seat reminding me just how early it was.

A fine mist clung to the windshield like a lazy fog, softening the harsh angles of the surrounding buildings. I exhaled slowly, adjusting the belt on my camel coat, smoothing it over my navy-blue silk blouse tucked crisply into a pair of tailored beige slacks.

My hair was wound tightly into a no-nonsense bun. A swipe of concealer under my eyes masked the fatigue...