SLOANE
Morning always feels too honest to me. The early light has a way of stripping everything bare, like it refuses to let you hide behind excuses or pretty lies. There are no long shadows to soften things, no darkness to blur reality. It is just truth, plain and sharp, staring you in the face whether you are ready or not.
The sky was a dull gray when I pulled into the parking lot of Sinclair & Delgado Legal Associates. Frost clung to the edges of my windshield, and my breath fogged the glass before slowly fading away. January cold in this city wasn’t dramatic or romantic. It was quiet and biting, the kind that slipped under your coat and settled deep into your bones.
Christmas decorations still hung on a few buildings across the street. Half the lights were dead, and the rest blinked
