Fifteen Years: His Turn To Play

open. Ryan Clark stormed in, his face a mask of theatrical panic and fury. He looked exactly as I remembered from

ciate and paralegal in the open-plan office could h

sions a mixture of surprise and concern. This was part

cted mask of confusion and worry. "Ryan? What

your billable hours!" He jabbed a finger at me, his voice cracking with fake emotion. "I had to

performance sink in for the audience. Then, I took a step

t trying to understand. How did you know to take her on that specific trail? The

from outrage to panic. He hadn't expected questions. He'd

er now?" he stammered, his

ed calling her this morning. It went straight to voicemail.

now instead of going to your wife?" He was back on script, deflecting, turning t

concern. "You're right. You're right, I'm sorry. My mind is just... racing. I'm not thi

ng to his eyes. He thought he had me. He tho

head. He had no idea he was a dead man walking. He was so focused on the money