Adam Kendricks sat in the passenger seat of Margot Augustine’s car, his gaze fixed on the blur of trees and road stretching out before them. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the highway. For Adam, the scene outside the window was just a reminder of what he was missing—another day spent away from the office, away from the cases he thrived on. He could almost hear the hum of his desk phone and the soft, constant buzzing of case files calling his name.

Margot had insisted on this vacation—her “forced getaway,” as she called it. She’d practically dragged him out of the bureau and into her car, despite his protests and grumbling. For years, she’d been hinting that he needed to step back from the relentless pace of his job, but this time, she wasn’t taking no for an answer. Her concern for him had always been apparent, but now it was paired with a determination that brooked no argument.

Adam was irritated, to say the least. It wasn’t just the time away from work; it was the principle of the thing. He had cases piling up, leads to follow, and questions that needed answers. A vacation wasn’t just an inconvenience—it was an interruption to his purpose, his drive. But Margot had been adamant, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. She’d even gone so far as to surprise him with a change of clothes and a suitcase—neither of which he’d had any interest in packing.

As the car turned off the highway onto a quieter, more secluded road, Adam’s patience was wearing thin. Margot glanced at him with a practiced mix of concern and resolve. He could see her soft brown eyes in the rearview mirror, and it only fueled his frustration.

“I don’t see why this is necessary, Margot,” he finally said, his voice rough and edged with exasperation. “I’ve got work that needs my attention. Cases that won’t solve themselves.”