My throat closed. The room tilted as the air thinned until I had to suck in a sharp, unsteady breath just to keep standing.
My mind shuffled through who could’ve done this and came up infuriatingly empty.
No one at the firm knew about my past. I hadn’t told anyone.
Without thinking, I ran from the room, pulse pounding in my ears.
I stumbled down the stairs, scanning the space until my eyes latched onto him.
I wasn’t sure why it was my first instinct. He was the only one who could be holding a grudge against me for tripping him up on the stand. I wasn’t sure how he discovered my past, but I was going to find out.
Graham looked up from his book, legs crossed, brow furrowing as soon as he saw me. He set his book on the table beside him, leaning forward but not yet standing.
I stood there, breaths heavy as I held up the envelope. “What the hell is this?”
He stood then, his frown sharp as his stare flicked between my face and the large envelope in my hand.
My heart beat wildly against my ribs like a caged animal thrashing against bars. I felt like I might throw up or pass out. I fought against both.
“I have no idea what that is.”
My gaze bore into him. I couldn’t tell whether he was lying. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to force myself to calm down. To think clearly.
Something was different in the way Graham looked at me; there was less anger and something more…concerned.
“What is it, Quinn?” He stared at the envelope, genuine curiosity in his tone.
Without thinking, I hid it behind my back. If Graham hadn’t been the one to leave it, the last thing I wanted to do was show him what it was. Maybe this was Preston’s idea of a joke. Or some twisted way of reminding me he was still technically in charge. I hadn’t told him about my history, but I wouldn’t put it past him to go digging.
“It’s nothing.” I turned back to the stairs.
“Wait,” Graham said quickly. I looked back; his expression was tight. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said too sharply. The sound of it almost made me flinch. He hadn’t done anything wrong. At least I didn’t think he had. I had a sense for when people were lying to me, and there was no malice in Graham’s expression.
I forced another breath, softening my tone. “It’s fine. I’m just…tired. And I smell like the jail. I think I just need to shower.”
I started back toward the stairs, but his voice stopped me again, urgent this time.
“What were you at the jail for?”
I turned, startled to find him standing closer than I expected. He was only a few feet away now, expression guarded.
“What do you think?” I stared at him, incredulous. “I was meeting with my client.”
A beat of silence pulsed between us.
“Alone?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I’m the only one from the firm in town.”
“You shouldn’t be meeting with him alone.” His tone was stiff, like he was holding something back.
The words of Mr. Anderson drifted through my mind.
Tell Dr. Ramsey I miss our correspondence.
I wondered what kind of “correspondence” my client had been talking about. What could possibly connect them? Graham had been hired by the state. Anderson shouldn’t have been communicating at all with him.
