Chloe’s POV
The hallway was carpeted, quiet, insulated from the noise below. I stepped out and slowed my pace, pretending to check room numbers as if I were looking for someone.
Then I heard it.
Margaret’s voice.
Low.
Sharp.
From behind one of the doors at the far end.
I moved carefully, stopping near a decorative console table halfway down the corridor. Close enough to listen. Far enough not to be obvious.
“…you promised me this would be handled,” she said, her tone no longer polished.
Mr. Chuwa responded, voice tense. “I am handling it. But the logs—”
“I don’t care about the logs,” she snapped. “I care about the outcome.”
My breath stilled.
Outcome.
Not the truth.
Outcome.
“She’s digging,” he muttered.
“Let her dig,” Margaret replied coldly. “She won’t find anything that
