She thought she was hosting a rescue.

She was, in fact, hosting an autopsy.

She just did not know yet that the body on the table was going to be her own scheme, and that the coroner was going to be the little accountant she had laughed at over champagne.

There is a particular satisfaction in walking, calm and prepared, toward a room where your enemy believes she has already won — and I want to be honest that I felt it, that morning, and I do not apologize for it.

Wendy had spent the night and the dawn certain of her victory.