I glance at Shane. He's already pulling out his phone.
"Okay. And you know her?"
"Yes. Her name is Bridget. She worked for us. I'll have someone give you all the details. We'll need to send something to her family."
Then she turns and walks toward my car without another word.
I watch her go, her shoulders rigid, her body almost limp.
The fire in her, the thing I both hate and admire, has gone out.
She doesn't say a word as I open her door and she gets in the car.
I drive in silence.
Keira sits in the passenger seat, her hands resting on the purse laying in her lap, her gaze fixed on the window.
She doesn't fidget.
Doesn't check her lipstick.
Doesn't pull out her phone.
Just stares.
I glance at her twice. Both times, she doesn't move.
She's quiet. Not defiant. Not flirtatious. Not even testing me.
Just... I don't know, but I don't like it.
When we pull up to her house, I turn the car off.
I don't reach for the door and neither does she, which she always does without fail.
I glance at her. I shouldn't ask.
"Are you all right?"
She doesn't look at me, just scoffs. "Like you give a shit."
She wipes her eyes quickly, a single sharp motion, before I can see if there are tears.
I don't say anything because I'm not sure what to say, or what I should say.
Overstepping my job is not worth it, for both her and me.
I get out of the car and move around to her side, opening the door.
I extend my hand to help her and she takes it.
As she goes to pull her hand away from mine, I hold onto it for a moment longer.
"I'm sorry for what happened to your employee," I say, my voice low. "But nothing like that will ever happen to you."
Those green eyes, slightly glossy, meet mine, and she nods, and then finally pulls her hand away.
I follow a few paces behind as we make our way inside. When she gets to the base of the stairs, she pauses.
