AMELIA'S POV
This coffee's scalding but I keep sipping it. After the morning I've had, at least pain I can understand.
Larna's got her whole setup going - three screens, cables snaking everywhere, that blue glow washing over her face. She's bent over the keyboard, shoulders bunched up, typing with this frantic focus that makes something twist in my stomach.
"Found something," she says. Something's off in her tone. Like she's working too hard to sound calm.
I drag my chair closer. The autopsy report fills her center screen - all those clinical terms trying to make death sound neat and organized. Charles Hartwell, 68, found slumped over his desk at 3:47 AM. Heart just... stopped.
"Therapeutic levels," Larna points at some highlighted text. "All his medications were in normal ranges."
"
