The restaurant door opened a few minutes later.
Sarah walked in wearing a white coat over a simple dress, her hair loosely styled, a touch of light makeup bringing out the natural warmth of her features. She'd clearly dressed with care, not for Quinn Carter's circus, but for the statement she was about to make.
Her eyes found Stan immediately. She gave him a small, steady smile, the kind of smile that carries a promise, and took the seat Quinn had prepared for her.
Quinn leaned forward, practically vibrating with anticipation.
"Sarah. Thank you for coming." His voice had shifted into its most earnest, most sympathetic register, the voice of a champion of justice, a protector of the vulnerable. "We're all here to support you. You're safe. You can speak freely."
He paused for effect.
"Do you owe Stan Harrison money?"
"Yes," Sarah said. "I do."
"And has Stan Harrison exploited you because of that debt? Has he bullied you? Pressured you? Made you do things you didn't want to do?"
