The clinic was exactly as discreet as its reputation promised, a quiet building two districts over with no sign on the door at all, the kind of place that existed specifically for people who needed something handled without anyone else ever finding out about it.
Wren sat in the waiting room turning her phone over in her hands, rehearsing, though she wasn't entirely sure yet what she was rehearsing for, the words or simply the calm certainty she needed her voice to carry when the moment finally came. The room was empty except for her and an elderly receptionist who never once looked up from her computer screen, which suited Wren perfectly, the kind of anonymity she'd learned to seek out over thirteen careful years.
Marcus had come to her three nights running now, since the failed loan, si
