From Celeste's angle, she could clearly see the veins bulging on the back of Martin's clenched hands.
It was a long while before he finally sat back down across from her.
"Alright," he said coldly, "what exactly do you want?"
Celeste reached into her bag and pulled out a kraft paper folder, sliding it slowly across the table.
Martin hesitated, but still opened it up carefully. Inside was a thick stack of sketch paper. His face gradually changed. "These... these are my drafts."
"Probably not all of them," Celeste admitted. "Michelle shredded them in batches. This is what I managed to salvage from the trash. Pieced it together as best I could-take a look and see how many are still missing."
His fingers trembled as he pulled the pages out to count. After a moment, his voic
