The call haunted Isla for three days.
Three days of pretending everything was fine while waiting for contact from a stranger who'd threatened to kill people if she told Killian.
Three days of lying to her husband.
It was eating her alive.
"You're distracted," Killian observed Wednesday morning. They were in his office at headquarters, reviewing distribution reports. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just tired."
"You've been tired for three days. And you keep checking your phone like you're expecting bad news."
"I'm fine. Just—" She searched for a plausible excuse. "Just worried about Mara. She's been stressed about finals."
Another lie.
Killian studied her. She could see him weighing whether to push. Whether to call her on the obvious deception.
"If something's wrong—if you're in trouble—you'd tell me, right?"
"Of course."
The biggest lie yet.
Before he could probe further, Luca entered. "Sir, Dmitri's here. Says it's urgent."
