SLOANE
Morning light slid through the tall glass windows of the firm and rested on my desk like it belonged there.
I like mornings. They feel honest. Nothing has gone wrong yet. Nothing has had time to disappoint you.
I set my bag down, shrugged off my coat, and inhaled the clean scent of paper and polished wood. The office wasn’t loud like Delgado Holdings. No sharp heels clicking like a warning. No people whispering like they were afraid of being heard.
This place felt… steady.
My phone buzzed in my hand.
Lisa.
I smiled before I even answered. “Good morning.”
“It is not a good morning,” she snapped.
I leaned back in my chair. “Helena?”
“Who else?” she groaned. “She moved my files again. Again, Sloane. And then she stood there pretending like she didn’t know what I was talking a
