Wednesday. 9:11 a.m.
The office smelled of fresh coffee and printer ink.
Kasia walked in first. Black skirt suit, obsidian necklace, tablet in hand.
She set a folder on my desk.
"Tomasz stayed over again Tuesday night. Left this morning at 7:42. She kissed him goodbye at the door. Long. Said she'd see him Friday."
I opened the folder.
Photos: breakfast table. Her in a robe. Him in yesterday's shirt. Coffee mugs. Her hand on his.
Another: door kiss. Her arms around his neck.
I closed it.
"She's consistent."
Kasia nodded.
"She is. No calls to you. No searches. Her phone's quiet on anything related to Thorn Publishing."
Joanna arrived at 9:28.
Burgundy blouse, gray skirt, laptop under her arm.
She sat.
"Fistoria sent the revised amendment draft at 8:03 this morning. Clause 7.12b is now limited to 'serialized text and direct derivative content.' No claim on world-building, systems, or independent adaptations. It's almost clean."
I scanned the attachment.
"Almost."
