"I am."
The screen starts loading. Silas is a little too excited — jaw forward, leaning in. Theo watches from the couch, arm held carefully still, doing a bad job of pretending it doesn't hurt.
A face fills the screen two seconds later.
Her pupils are blown. She hasn't slept. Good.
She's silent for a moment, eyes searching the dark room around me, trying to find an edge, something to identify. She won't find one.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I say. The voice distorter strips everything warm from the words.
"I'm right here," she says, leaning in. "And I'm not playing—"
I cut her off. She thinks accepting the call gives her footing. That's always the first mistake.
"Answering the call already started the clock, princess Kalkaska. Now you're going to do exactly as I say—"
"Fuck you."
The call ends.
I stare at the blank screen.
She hung up in anger. Not fear.
That's interesting.
Silas breaks into a laugh, slapping my shoulder. "That went beautifully."
"She'll reach out," I say, closing the laptop. I pull the mask off and set it aside without rushing. "Give her time."
"How much time?"
"Not much." I stand and stretch. "Most people can't tolerate silence for more than a few hours before they do something impulsive."
Silas is already on the burner phone. I watch him tapping away.
"What are you sending her?" I ask.
"She texted first, actually." He holds up the screen.
Theo leans forward from the couch. "What did she say?"
I take the phone from Silas and look. I don't react. I walk it across the room and toss it toward Theo's right side — the bad one — deliberately, without hurry. Not out of cruelty. Just to see.
He catches it on reflex, and the flash of pain across his face lasts exactly half a second before his expression locks back down.
"Wear the sling," I say flatly. "We need you to be functional this weekend."
Theo looks at the phone, and something shifts at the corner of his mouth. It’s almost a smile.
"Do you think she'll go to the police?" Silas asks.
"Yes," I say, without hesitation. "Fear always seeks authority first. It's the most predictable response there is. Let her. It won't matter."
Silas nods slowly, turning it over. "So what's Plan B?"
I tap my chin, running the sequence. Her house is the mayor's residence — gated, staffed, and insulated. Getting to her physically isn't the play right now. That's not where she's vulnerable anyway.
