The morning broke with a pale.
Watery sun barely cutting through the clouds, the kind that made the city look washed out and half-asleep.
I arrived at the foundation headquarters a little after eight, clutching a paper cup of coffee that had already gone cold by the time I stepped through the glass doors.
It should have been a normal day. Meetings. Calls. Grant proposals.
But the look on Tessa’s face the moment I entered told me otherwise.
She was standing by the reception desk, her eyes wide, the color drained from her cheeks.
“Jane…thank God you’re here,” she blurted, rushing toward me. “You need to see this. Right now.”
Before I could even respond, she shoved her tablet into my hands.
The breath left my body.
The headline glared back at me in bold, merciless letters:
“CHIL
