The photo burned itself into Lia's eyes
Jessica Hartley's car. Margaret Ashford's driveway. Timestamp: 8:47 AM. Three hours before their café meeting.
"It could be fake," Isla said from the backseat, leaning forward to see Lia's phone. "Photoshopped. Deepfaked. Whatever."
"Or Jessica met with Margaret this morning and then came to warn us about it." Caspian's voice was measured, but his hands were tight on the steering wheel. "Playing both sides to see which one offers better protection."
"Or she's working for Margaret completely and this whole thing is a setup." Lia couldn't look away from the image. "The flash drive could be full of fabricated evidence designed to implicate us in something."
They'd left the café fifteen minutes ago. We were halfway back to Caspian's building, stuck
