He stood and left money for breakfast.

I finished eating.

Accepting a meal did not require accepting a contract, although he had arranged the two close enough that I felt the pressure anyway.

Back in the room, I laid the envelope beside a cheap pen.

It smelled faintly of gardenias and vanilla, a scent I associated with Chloe at the house.

I could not prove who had touched it or where it had been drafted from a perfume.

I did not need to.