Seraphine's brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her features. "Who is calling?"
Voren turned the screen toward her, his expression unreadable. "Stanley."
"Pick it up."
He hesitated, thumb hovering over the answer button. Something cold coiled in his gut, a warning sharp and insistent. "I sense something wrong."
"The more reason you should answer it," she insisted.
The call ended before Voren could decide. Then it rang again, immediate and demanding. This time, Voren pressed the button and lifted the phone to his ear. "Stanley."
"My good friend." Stanley's voice boomed through the speaker, warm and familiar. Voren forced a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "How are you doing?"
"Not good." Stanley's tone hardened, the lightness draining away like water through cracked stone. "Santiago escaped from prison."
