“It’s a legal inquiry letter,” I said, reading the formal text printed above the clear glassine window.

“They’re threatening an injunction against your firm for helping conceal corporate assets.”

Theo looked at the letter for a long moment without touching it.

“They sent a legal notice to my office, Vivian, but they don’t get to tell us who can work here,” he said.

At two in the afternoon, the sun fell across the stone terrace outside the drafting room.

I went out onto the patio with my phone and hit Nora Miller’s speed dial.