She had reverted to that old, familiar name for him, but under circumstances like these.
Timothy York sat on the sofa without moving.
Yara Keats dangled her phone. Clearly, she had just used it for something.
Yet Timothy York's expression was placid, as if he wasn't at all concerned with what she had just done.
Seeing his reaction, Yara Keats smiled. "Didn't you say you wouldn't be so calm? I'm very curious to see just how you'll lose your composure."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Timothy York's phone rang.
He answered the phone. It was Ivan Gray.
"Miss Keats just used a media account to post several photos of Miss Thorne, but we intercepted them in time. They haven't been circulated."
Immediately after, Timothy York's phone buzzed twice. Ivan Gray had sent the photos over.
They were photos of Summer Thorne driving in and out of Stillwater.
