AUTHOR

The Monday was bland.

Bits of sunshine slanted through the sheer curtains of Tessa’s sitting room, painting soft gold stripes across the carpet.

It ought to have been a pleasant morning—one of those rare days when the calendar was mercifully empty of meetings and emails.

Instead, the air felt heavy, as though something dreadful was waiting to break. Tessa could feel it; the sheer uneasiness that settled into a lump in her throat.

Tessa sat at her kitchen table, still in her suit from a last-minute meeting at Ramon Enterprises.

A cup of untouched tea sat by her elbow, steam long dissipated.

Clarissa was across from her, scrolling through...