Danielle<

Mr. Grant’s profile as he sat in a highbacked chair, and slowly raised a glass to his lips. Something lay across his lap, but I couldn’t quite make it out.

He lowered the glass and raised the whatever it was to his face. It looked like cloth, torn at the bottom…

I gasped out loud as it caught the light. It was my shirt from that day in the office. The one he’d torn undressing me.

Mr. Grant whipped his head around at the sound.

I didn’t move in time, and our eyes locked through the crack in the open door.

“What are you doing?” His voice was harsh,...