LONDON | ONE MONTH AFTER VERDICT | 8:47 AM
Stella stood before the revolving doors of Winslow & Partners for the first time in six weeks. The building's granite facade reflected a sky the color of old silver--London's particular shade of hesitant spring. She wore the navy suit from the trial's second day, but it hung differently now. Not armor, not uniform, just cloth.
The lobby receptionist--a new hire, young enough that her professional smile still had sharp edges--did a double take when Stella gave her name. The trial had been in the papers. Not front page anymore, but legal blogs still dissected its implications.
"Mr. Alistair asked that you go straight to the conference room. The team's gathering."
Stella took the elevator alone. Her reflection in the polished brass doors showed a
