Harrison and Dean.

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

Sophie tapped the dark screen twice with her index finger.

A small speaker on the bottom of the phone crackled, and then Dean’s voice rang clearly through the boardroom.

‘You always did have a soft heart, Clara, but Daniel wasn’t himself back then,’ the recorded voice said, sharp and clear against the silent walls.

‘Give me his papers.’

Dean sat dead still, his hands frozen on the edge of the mahogany table.