Caroline stood beside her car until the concrete stopped feeling like it was leaning in.
Her keys rested in her palm, her teeth biting faint crescents into skin.
She slipped the envelope into her tote—between her laptop sleeve and a folder of board notes—and got into the car with a quiet, controlled click of the door.
Taking a deep breath, doing her best to steady herself, she started the engine and drove toward the exit as if her world hadn't been turned upside down.
Her hands were shaking on the wheel, making it harder for her to drive, but she forced herself to be strong. She couldn't snap. Not yet. She had to keep her mind clear, even though she had no idea of how to do that.
At the next red light, she used her phone to take pictures of the envelope front and back—timestamped, ge
