“Discretion is valuable here,” he answered. “You will manage my schedule, screen my calls, and make sure that when I am in this office nothing outside these walls interrupts me.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
He began listing case numbers, client names, and even the exact temperature he preferred his coffee. Avery focused hard, but her eyes drifted despite her promise.
Near the corner of his desk sat a silver photo frame that did not match the polished perfection of everything else. The edges were slightly tarnished, and it looked like it had been handled often.
Her breath caught.
The photo inside showed a little girl in a white lace dress standing in a park, holding a sunflower almost as big as her head. The image was old and slightly faded, but she knew that dress and that crooked hem.
She knew the faint coffee stain in the lower corner because her mother had spilled it years ago. The girl in the picture was her.
The room seemed to tilt, and Daniel’s voice became distant. She did not remember standing, yet suddenly she was on her feet pointing at the frame.
“Where did you get that,” she asked, her voice shaking.