Samantha stood alone in Miller's space, a file clutched tight enough in her hands to crease the folder, her eyes scanning it for the second time as though she needed to be certain she hadn't misread it.
The moment Miller stepped through the front door, he knew something was wrong.
"Master," Helen approached cautiously.
"Madam Samantha is waiting for you in your study."
Without another word, he headed upstairs.
The study door stood slightly open.
Inside, Samantha stood before his desk.
In her hand was a thin brown folder.
She wasn't reading it. She was crushing it.
Her fingers had wrinkled the edges beyond
repair.
The sound of the door closing behind him made her turn.
Her expression was unlike anything Miller had seen before. Disappointment. Anger.
Heartbreak. He couldn't tel
