Tears well in her eyes. “I didn’t have a choice, Piper. They were going to send me to prison.”
I remember my own afternoon spent in a jail cell. If Timofey had that power, I’m sure the Albanians do, too.
“I would have fought for you. I still will,” I say. “They can’t lock you away on false charges and get away with it. We can fight back and—”
“You don’t understand.” Her voice breaks around the words. “They aren’t false charges, Piper.”
“What did you do? It can’t have been that bad. People don’t go to prison for jaywalking or stealing a pack of gum. You have to—”
“You never asked how I met Wayne.”
The change in subject is abrupt. “Yes, I did. You said you met him at work.”
“Yeah. I met him at work,” she repeats. “When he was there investigating my company for fraud.”
I stare at her,
