“Bring me some0ne intelligent,” he sneered in German, dropping a hundred-dollar bill into my water pitcher

“For what?”

“For whatever they decide.”

Lena glanced through the swinging door.

Victor was showing something on a tablet while Dr. Brenner frowned.

Then Lena saw her own photograph on the screen.

Underneath it was a title she had never held:

DIRECTOR OF CLINICAL LANGUAGE QUALITY.

Her throat tightened.

She had assumed HaleBridge had only withheld her money.

Instead, the company had been using her identity to strengthen its credibility.