CHAPTER 17
The penthouse was quiet, but it was no longer empty in the way it once had been. There was a softness to it now, a sense of lived-in calm that came from Nancy’s presence.
She sat curled on the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, phone pressed to her ear. “Yes, Maya, I’m alive,” she said, rolling her eyes. Her free hand moved as if her sister could see the gesture. “Barely surviving, but still breathing.”
Andrew sat across from her with a file open in front of him. He didn’t look up. He turned a page, the sound cutting softly through the room.
“That’s dramatic,” Maya’s voice came through the phone, light and teasing.
“It’s accurate,” Nancy replied, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Try living with a control freak for a week.”
Andrew shifted slightly, though he kept his gaze on
