Michael’s expression softened, but only slightly. He could see the desperation in her eyes, the vulnerability she was trying hard to keep hidden. After a tense silence, he sighed. "Alright, come inside. Let’s talk."
They moved into his living room, and Michael gestured for her to sit. Rose sank into the chair, wringing her hands as she tried to gather her thoughts. She knew she had to tread carefully, to keep him from realizing the full extent of her involvement with Cassandra.
Michael settled across from her, his gaze unwavering. "So, what exactly do you need help with?" his eyes narrowed at her, his gaze hardening. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Cassandra, would it?” he asked.
She hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. “It’s… complicated. But yes, Cassandra’s involved."
