33
Dissatisfied
I tried to find out as much as I could about how Belinda had died. Samuel didn’t know anything about it, and still insisted that I had not been married. So anything about Belinda Boyle was strictly secret. I even tried reading her number from her file, E098FH836814, but he pretended he didn’t know what that was, and said there was no way for him to look up anyone by this means. I felt crushed.
A messenger window popped up on Andrea Dover’s messenger application. “Hey, it’s me,” it said. It was beside Bolt Greene’s avatar.
Oh, how she hated him. She’d tried several times to put him in positions that would expose him for what he was: incompetent and lazy. But it hadn’t worked. He was still the cap on her career. She smiled as she typed, “Hi Bolt, what’s up?”
“I need you
