I called your office again.”
“And?”
“I reached someone in executive correspondence.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did they say?”
“That they couldn’t discuss private matters.”
“Did you ask whether I had received your letters?”
– Sí.
– ¿Y?
“They said all correspondence was processed according to company policy.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
Of course they did.
Perfectly professional.
Perfectly useless.
“After that,” Cassandra said, “I stopped trying.”
La miro.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
I waited.
She took a breath.
“It wasn’t because I hated you. It was because I was
