The conversation happened on a Thursday morning over breakfast.
Damien sat across from me with his coffee and a document he had been reading for twenty minutes and said, without looking up, "I need to talk to you about the weekend."
I waited.
He put the document down. " There's a business retreat in the Lake District. Two days, starting Friday afternoon. I was planning to go alone."
"Okay," I said.
There's been a new twist in the security situation, he said, choosing his words with care, the way he always did when he'd already made up his mind. The account that's been posting those photos of you, it's not just a coincidence, someone has been deliberately keeping tabs on your every move.
I looked at him. " What do you mean by monitoring?"
He looked at me with a serious expression, hi
