Ethan
The phone hadn't stopped ringing since the day before—lawyers, executives, journalists all trying to get a statement. The police, the prosecutor's office… Everyone seemed to want a piece of a story that even we didn't fully understand.
I placed both hands on my office desk and looked, for the fifth time in less than ten minutes, at the folder lying in front of me.
It wasn't a contract, it wasn't a bid, it wasn't one of those documents capable of moving millions of dollars… It was much worse. It was Clara's case file.
I never imagined I'd end up seeing my wife's name in a court file.
The door opened softly, and I looked up. Clara appeared, holding a cup of coffee.
She still looked tired; the last few nights had been difficult for both of us.
We slept, but rest was something el
