The door opened, and Raymond stepped into Miranda's office, his form filling the space as he closed the door behind him.
"Hi." He said, his voice calm and even as he settled himself on the couch.
Miranda ended the phone call she was on, rising from her chair and joining him on the couch. "Have they been released?" She asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Raymond nodded. "Yes, the driver took them home." He said. "Why did you call me here?"
Miranda rose to her feet, her lithe figure moving with grace as she made her way to the small refrigerator. With deft, practiced motions, she extracted a bottle of whiskey and a glass from the fridge, pouring a generous amount of the amber liquid into the cup.
She swirled the contents of the cup, the sound of ice clinking against the glass like a whispered invitation.
