Adrian
Kelly’s voice was steady over the phone, but I could hear the exhaustion beneath it.
"I’m fine, Adrian. I’m coping," she said.
I didn’t believe her.
The media storm around her had only gotten worse. Protesters outside her office, articles tearing apart her past, accusations flying without a shred of proof.
I ran a hand over my face, gripping the phone tighter. "And the kids?"
“Harper and Aiden are doing well. I'll make sure of it," she replied, then paused. Then she exhaled softly. "You don’t have to worry about me, Adrian."
She was lying. But pressing her wouldn’t help.
My fingers hovered over my notes, eyes landing on the old photograph I had found. Evelyn and a woman who resembled Kelly. My mind had been circling the same question for hours—was this really Kelly
