“You’ve been digging,” Rachel said without preamble.
The wind picked up, rattling the bare branches above them. Rachel stepped closer, her heels clicking like metronomes of doom. rachel steele gavin
Now, Rachel sat in her silent Georgetown kitchen, the city’s lights blurring through rain-streaked windows. The text was from an anonymous number, but she knew the signature: terse, confident, and damning. Gavin had been quiet lately. Too quiet. He’d stopped taking her calls, started hiring his own staff, and last week, he’d voted against a bill she’d personally lobbied him to support. He wasn’t just distancing himself—he was preparing for war. “You’ve been digging,” Rachel said without preamble