Emily accepted the tablet.
“Anything else?”
Deb pretended to think.
“Try not to get thrown off the building.
Paperwork was a nightmare.”
Emily smiled.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Then a monitor alarmed.
Both women turned at once.
Emily moved toward the room without hesitation.
The scar along her jaw was still there.
So was the ache in her shoulder on cold mornings.
The rooftop recording was locked away as evidence, Richard’s office belonged to someone else, and the reinforced construction net had long since been removed from the side of the building.
None of those things were what mattered most.
What remained was simpler.
Richard Caldwell had believed power meant deciding which version of reality everyone else would be forced to accept.
Emily had shown him the limit of that power.
Evidence could survive intimidation.
Witnesses could stop being silent.
And the person everyone underestimated could be the one who had already measured the distance to the edge, noticed what waited below, and prepared before the bully ever realized there was a fight.
