The tablet felt heavier than it should have.
Liam sat in the back seat and looked at the photographs with the particular stillness of a man who had asked for information and was now regretting the specificity with which it had been delivered. The drone images were clean and well-composed—whoever his man had positioned understood angles. The yacht cutting through open water. The foredeck. The railing.
Aurora at the railing.
She was in the cream halter gown, her hair loose and moving in the wind, her face turned toward the ocean with an expression he hadn't seen on her in weeks. Open. Unguarded. The quality of someone who had, for a moment, stopped managing how they appeared to the world and had simply allowed themselves to exist inside it.
Ray was beside her. Grinning at the water like a man who had gotten exactly what he came for.
