Elena didn’t know about the night Alexander touch me.
That ignorance was important.
I realized it the moment I walked into the café and saw her sitting by the window, posture relaxed, confidence worn like a well-tailored coat. She looked exactly like a woman who believed the board had already tilted in her favor.
She smiled when she saw me.
Warm. Polite. Triumphant.
“Seraphina,” she said, standing to greet me as if this meeting were her idea. “I’m glad you agreed to see me.”
I hadn’t agreed.
I had decided.
“Sit,” I said.
She did, eyes flicking briefly to my hands, my face, searching for something—distress, perhaps. Confirmation. She found none and adjusted quickly.
“I won’t take much of your time,” she began. “I just thought… clarity might be helpful.”
“For whom?” I asked.
She
