Roman had only taken a few steps down the hallway, his mind already turning over the first real clue he'd gotten, when Vance's voice cut through the air.
"Did you get my email?" he called, his voice cutting cleanly through Roman's thoughts.
Roman stopped. Then, slowly, he turned back. "What email?" he asked, too fast, too sharp. His brows drew together.
Vance didn't answer immediately. He just watched him, something faint curling at the corner of his lips. "The one from Estelle."
The words were quiet, but they hit hard.
Roman's face drained of color as he took a step closer; the hallway seemed to narrow, sound thinned around him. For a brief second, nothing else existed. Then the doubt surged in.
"And why would Estelle send you an email," he asked, his voice tightening, "instead of speaking to me directly?"
Vance lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. "I'm sure you already know the answer," he said lightly. "Unless you want me to spell it out for you."
