did not sit.
Neither did I.
“What is it?”
“Claire left a file on our internal server.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“For you?”
“We thought so.”
“You thought?”
“The file is password protected.”
“Then how do you know what it is?”
“We recovered the filename from the system.”
He turned the paper toward me.
I read it.
ELENA_WALKER_FINAL
My mouth went dry.
“That’s my name.”
“Yes.”
“Why would she have a file on me?”
“We don’t know.”
“When was it created?”
“Seven months ago.”
I stared at him.
Seven months.
Before the separation.
Before the photographs of Ethan and Rebecca.
Before I called Marisol.
Before I booked a flight to Houston.
“You didn’t know me seven months ago.”
“No.”
“Claire didn’t know me.”
“I don’t know.”
I looked at Daniel.
“What’s the password?”
“We haven’t broken it.”
“Can you?”
“Probably.”
Adrian immediately added, “Not without authorization.”
I appreciated that
