This time, he didn’t argue because he knew I was right. I pushed myself up from the seat.
“Where are you going?” Joe asked.
“Back.”
“To?”
“The Finn estate.”
Where the lie was born.
His brows pulled together. “Quinn, this—”
“Let me handle it,” I cut in.
I reached for my bag, then paused. My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach. This time, I didn’t whisper or say a word.
I just rested my palm there calmly. This wasn’t just about me anymore.
I lowered my hand and moved slowly to the door.
“Quinn.”
I stopped but didn’t turn.
“There’s something else.”
I closed my eyes briefly. Of course, there is always something else.
“You are not the only one digging into this,” he said.
A pause.
“Morrison already is.”
The composure and control I had built cracked. If Morrison was involv
