Page 101 of The Pakhan’s Debt by Leona White

“You have a gift,” I say from the doorway.

She looks up. “For what?”

“Making Mrs. Wentworth furious without raising your voice.”

Elena glances at the tea. “I drank the water.”

“I’ll include that in your defense.”

Leonid closes one folder. “Rykova can certify tonight. Nina has the language ready. We still need Elena’s review on the director removal packet.”

“You’ll have it,” Elena says, reaching for the page.

I take it before she can.

Her eyes narrow.

“You eat two more slices,” I say. “Then you read.”

Leonid finds a margin note worth reviewing, and Nina turns to her laptop, though her eyes stay on us long enough to enjoy it. Elena picks up an apple slice and bites into it hard enough to make it sound personal.

I set the page down.

Later, the room clears. She stays seated while I stand beside the table. A floodlight outside sweeps past, and glare slides over the files and cabinet glass.

She looks at the sequence. “You’re angry I’m going.”

“I’m past angry.”

I take two steps toward the shelf, pick up a file, then set it back without opening it. I can feel her watching me.

“That sounds promising.”

“It isn’t.”

I turn back to her.

She leans into the chair, one hand resting low on her stomach, steadying herself. “You know it has to be me.”

“I know.”

“You hate that.”

“Yes.”

She studies me for a second. The light softens her face, takes years off it, and makes her look younger in the hard light of the legal room. She lifts one shoulder.

I step in close, close enough that her knees brush my leg. My hand settles on her shoulder, just there, firm enough that she feels it.

“When this ends,” I say, quieter now, “men don’t get to decide what you are.”

Her fingers come up and hold mine there.

30

ELENA

His hand settles at my back as we leave the legal room, firm and guiding, and I don’t argue because I’m tired and his touch keeps me moving.