Stone placed two, thick file folders on the desk.
“What are those?” she asked, but he saw her eyes scan the U.N. globe and the red words in a diagonal slash across the cover—Top Secret.
“Information on your parents,” he replied.
“My parents were missionaries. Why would the United Nations have Top Secret folders on them?”
“Read them and find out.”
She picked up the top one, which happened to be her mother’s. “What does the black square mean?” she asked him.
“It means they died in the line of duty.”
Her eyes contacted his again, wariness now in them. “They died in a plane crash,” she said.
“Did they? Read and find out.”
Stone leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers as he watched her open the folder. After a few seconds of reading, she closed it again, and she looked up at him.
“Am I supposed to be seeing this?” she asked.
“Technically, no, but I’m the boss so I have some leeway. Read.”
A half-hour passed before she finished and tossed the folders on the desk with such force they slid across the top toward him.
“Those are lies,” she said.
“No,” he replied. “That’s the truth about your parents.”
“My parents weren’t the kind of people who peek through keyholes and spy on everyone.”
Her chin came up, defiant, and, damn, but didn’t she look like her mother when she did that?
“They were exactly that ‘kind of people,’ and now that you know, you have some thinking to do.”
“I want you to finish their work.”
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