Victoria’s hand came down on the folder first.

She drew it toward herself, and the pages slid, and Rosalie put both palms flat on the table.

Victoria checked her watch.

Even in that grainy picture, the gold band caught the light.

Hale’s phone lit up between us.

Doreen, the screen said.

He turned it face down and left his hand over it a second longer than he needed to.

“She wants me to stop for bread,” he said.