Naomi nodded, even though Karen couldn’t see her. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Of course. Let me know if you have any questions.”
They said goodbye, and Naomi set the phone down slowly.
Tomorrow.
She’d thought she’d have more time. A few more days to prepare herself. To figure out what she wanted to say to Sissy. To process the weight of bringing Grace to see her mother while she was locked up.
But tomorrow was . . . soon.
Too soon.
Grace finished the bottle, and Naomi set it aside, lifting the baby to her shoulder to burp her.
The reporter continued in the background.
“Prosecutors allege that senior executives, including Marrs himself, fabricated financial statements and misled auditors in order to?—”
Something else tugged at the edge of Naomi’s mind.
A flicker. A fragment.
She looked at the screen again. The reporter was talking, but Naomi wasn’t hearing the words anymore.
She heard something else.
A voice. Male and familiar.
Gio, she realized. “This doesn’t look good.”
Naomi’s breath caught.
The image shifted to an office. Glass windows. City lights beyond them.
She was standing near a desk.
Gio stood across from her. “This is serious. I’m glad you came to me.”
The fragmented memory flickered. She couldn’t remember what they were talking about. Couldn’t hold onto the details.
But the feelings . . .
Concern. Outrage. They both coiled in her chest.
Then the feelings disappeared.
Naomi blinked, and she was back in the living room. Grace warm and solid against her shoulder. The news anchor still talking on the television.
Her heart pounded.
Her hands shook.
What was that?
She pressed her eyes closed, trying to pull the memory back. Trying to see more. To understand what they’d been discussing.
But it was gone. The memory slipped away like water through her fingers.
All that remained was a disturbed, unsettled feeling, along with the certainty that whatever she and Gio had been talking about, it hadn’t been good.
