He looked the same as he always did--a devil with a handsome face--but that wasn't really what scared her. It was the calm demeanor that scared Sasha. The words and tone that always made it sound like she was the one being unreasonable, that she was overreacting. Cole had gotten very good at convincing her over the years that she was overreacting to things. Part of her still thought so, even now. When he stepped toward her, she automatically inched back, but forced herself to hold her ground. He couldn't hurt her here. They were in public. People would hear her scream. If she didn't make it back to work, the hospital would contact her family and they would go looking for her. They knew where Cole lived.
Sasha eyed the bumpy envelope in his hand, reaching for it but hesitating for a moment as though it might bite her. Of course it wouldn't, probably, but this could still somehow be a trap. She didn't trust him, and she didn't trust this.
"Thank you," she said as she grasped her end of the envelope, both because she needed to and because she meant it. Because she did mean it, even while she stood there afraid of him. "Cole you and I both know you wouldn't have let me go if I tried talking to you." Sasha had a lot more to say about those simple, reasonable lines he'd just given her, but she didn't know how to argue against them. They were wrong, she knew that, but gathering evidence and incidents took time and energy and she hadn't yet gotten enough of either to plan out responses to them.