She thought her sister just wanted to humiliate her at the reception, until the ER surgeon pulled a deadly, allergen-soaked weapon from inside the buttercream.

I read Dana's message three times.

Someone from my office.

I worked in contract compliance at a mid-sized property development firm in downtown Austin.

Eleven people on my floor.

I had been there for six years.

I had never brought Haley into that building, never mentioned her by name to more than two colleagues, never mixed those two parts of my life because I had learned early — very early — that Haley had a way of finding edges in things and pressing until they split.

I called Dana back.

"Who?" I said the moment she picked up.

"Rodriguez took the folder.

I couldn't read the full name.

I saw the top of the page for maybe two seconds." She lowered her voice.

"It looked like it started with a C.

First name.

And the email domain — Lena, it had your company's domain on it."

My stomach dropped through the floor.

"You're sure about the domain?"

"I work in IT.

I know what a corporate email address looks like." A pause.

"I'm sure."

My floor.

Six years.

I went through the names in my head.

Carol in accounting.

No — she was sixty-two and had sent me a card when my dog died two years ago.

Craig in acquisitions.

Possibly.

He had always been polite in a way that felt like strategy.

Then the name landed.

Caleb.

Caleb Marsh.

Senior compliance analyst.

Two desks from mine.

He had applied for the same team lead position I had been offered eight months ago.

He had congratulated me in the hallway with both hands in his pockets and a smile that didn't reach his collarbone.

I had been careful never to say his name to anyone in my personal life.

But Haley would not have needed me to.

I remembered now — the industry mixer in March.

I had gone alone.

Haley had shown up uninvited, said she was meeting a friend nearby and thought she'd stop in.

She had moved through that room like she always did, easy and magnetic, and I had watched her talk to half the room before I could steer her back toward the door.

Caleb had been at that mixer.

"Dana," I said slowly.

"I need you to stay close to where Rodriguez is.

Don't engage.

Don't approach Haley.

Just stay visible and watch."

"Already doing it," Dana said.

"But Lena — there's something else."

I waited.

"Haley's husband.

Marcus." Dana's voice dropped another register.

"He just stepped away from the officer he was arguing with and made a phone call.