At two o'clock that afternoon, a somber, decisive atmosphere reigned on the forty-second floor of the Columbia Center. Outside the corner executive office of Victoria Cross, two armed building security officers stood stationed beside a wheeled metal evidence cart. Inside the office, Victoria sat behind her desk, her eyes red-rimmed from weeping, her hands trembling violently as Ethan Vance, Nora Sterling, and Sarah Jenkins stood before her. On the glass…
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