I leaned in toward the silver speaker unit on the glass table.

“Are you proposing to publish falsified medical records to wreck my professional reputation?” I asked.

“We’re describing the corporate communications strategy Rosalind Aldridge has already approved,” the lawyer answered.

Next to me, the line crackled as Nora uncapped her silver fountain pen, the sharp metallic click ringing through the small room.

“You’ve got three hours before I file an emergency motion for corporate extortion in Manhattan federal court,” Nora said.

“File whatever you like, Nora,” the lawyer said.