Chapter Sixteen
Trent stared at the notes strewn across the desk and shuffled them around. Okay, so it wasn’t technically a desk, but a small table he’d borrowed from the living room. Sylvester had happily obliged.
He couldn’t stand another second of going over the figures, but he didn’t have a f*****g accountant anymore and that meant doing this s**t himself. Adalia had slept at the hospital the night before... he hadn’t seen her since after their failed attempt at getting romantic. She’d called, though reluctantly.
Trent scraped the nib of the pen at the bottom of the page, drawing a long black line for no reason. Just to have something to do with his damn hands.
Still no news about the black box, though the search had continued. f**k it, it wouldn’t last much longer at this rate. He
