Isolde waited until Damien was in a long meeting before she slipped out. The collar buzzed the entire elevator ride down. She ignored it. Her hands were shaking as she took a cab to the rooftop bar near her old apartment. The city looked different from up here. Beautiful and dangerous at the same time.
Her mother was already waiting at a corner table. She looked nervous. Older. Like the weight of everything was finally showing on her face.
"You came," Victoria said. She stood up. "I was not sure you would."
Isolde sat down. "This is the last time. Show me what you have."
Her mom slid a folder across the table. "Everything is in here. Bank records. Messages. Proof that Damien paid me to stay quiet. Proof that he killed that man."
Isolde opened the folder. Her perfect memory locked
