Dom called on a Thursday at 10:14 a.m.
Mia was at Sarah's kitchen table with the Riverside Charter welcome packet open in front of her, reading the curriculum framework for junior English and making notes in the margins the way she had always made notes — small, precise, the shorthand she had developed over four years that only she could read. The January classroom was already taking shape in her mind. She was building it the way she built everything: quietly, in the background, while the front of her life was occupied with other things.
She answered.
"I found the third party," Dom said.
She set the pen down.
He did not preamble. He never did. "The email from Lila's notebook — the one to the private domain account. I've been working the server trail for two weeks. The domain was regis
