Chapter 67 The Unlike Alliance

• The message came late in the evening, buzzing across Zara’s phone as she sat at her desk, sketchbook open, a half-finished drawing of a handbag staring back at her.
• It wasn’t like Leo to text her. When he did, his messages were usually measured, formal, the words crafted just like his speeches polished, restrained, impossible to misread. But this one was different.
• “I need to see you. I need someone to talk to. Zara, please.”