After the incident, Darren told Harper to get dressed. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to get off before he began for the day.
It wouldn't necessarily affect anything, but Darren wished that he'd at least been able to release. Somehow, since he'd started this with Harper, it had always given him a clearer mind for the rest of the day.
He buckled his belt, adjusted himself and entered the meeting room, where before he even had the chance to speak, the bomb of Archibald Mooney's was dropped.
For a moment, the meeting room was suspended in silence. The only sound was the hum of the polarized glass walls and the distant tap of keys from the information unit downstairs. But in this room, in this hour, a single name had turned every breath sharp.
Archibald Mooney.
Rachel's voice had only just faded when Darren's eyes narrowed slightly— only slightly.
His arms remained by his side, his posture unmoved. But inside, the calculation had already begun.
