*I need to talk to you. Alone. Before Graham gets to the office.*

I stared at the preview.

A second message came through immediately after.

*I have the bank transfers he forced me to sign. I can give you everything.*

The sender’s typing bubbles appeared, then disappeared.

I sat down on the barstool, the green velvet cool beneath my hands.

The storm outside seemed to grow louder, the wind rattling the frame of the window.

I typed a single word in response.

*Where?*

The reply was instantaneous, giving an address to a diner off the interstate, miles away from the manicured lawns of Highland Park.

I did not sleep that night.

I watched the digital clock on my nightstand tick past three, then four, then five.

The rain finally stopped just before dawn, leaving the Highland Park streets slick and black under the streetlights.

I dressed in a charcoal wool suit and a silk blouse.

It was the armor I chose for the day.

By six o’clock, I was in my SUV, driving away from the gated estate and heading south toward the interstate.