Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.
Emily hunched in her cube, staring with deep misery at the screen saver swirling across her monitor. She had never told Frank that she found evidence of Haytham accessing her security code, and she certainly had never mentioned the complicated access key that opened that back door. She pressed her forehead into her palms, elbows resting atop the clutter of papers scattered across her desk. Those papers had seemed so important when she had left her cubicle for a fresh hit of caffeine; now, none of it really mattered.