Adam barely slept that night. The image from the email burned into his mind like a scar. Someone had been there. Someone had seen. But who?
By the time morning came, he had convinced himself it couldn’t be Mr. Johnson who sent it. It had to be a warning, maybe an anonymous threat, or some cruel joke from an employee who’d noticed too much. Still, his gut twisted with dread as he rode the elevator up to the executive floor.
When he entered Mr. Johnson’s office, the man greeted him warmly, as if nothing at all was wrong.
“Adam,” Mr. Johnson said, rising from behind his mahogany desk. “Good morning. You’re just the man I wanted to see.”
Adam forced a smile. “Good morning, sir.”
“Sit,” Mr. Johnson said, gesturing toward the chair acros
