“Fine,” he said, rising from his seat.

“Nine o’clock.”

“I will have my secretary set up the conference room.”

He picked up his briefcase, his fingers tight around the leather handle.

He kissed my cheek, his lips dry and cold against my skin.

“Get some sleep, Shelby,” he whispered.

I watched him walk out the front door, the heavy oak closing behind him.

The silence of the house settled over me like dust.

***

The next morning was grey and rainy.

Water streaked the glass facade of the Harlan Media tower.

I walked through the lobby, the marble floors reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights.

The receptionist smiled, though her eyes held a flicker of pity.

They all knew I had been in the hospital.

They probably thought I was losing my mind, just as Jared wanted them to.

I took the private elevator to the executive suite on the fourteenth floor.

Jared’s office was at the end of the hall, but I went straight to my own desk.

As a founding partner, my office remained untouched, though a thin layer of dust covered the mahogany desk.