Everyone in the lab went silent, glancing at each other in confusion.
Harlene finally broke the spell. “What’s going on with Emmy? I’ve known her for ages. I’ve never seen her so worked up.”
The others jumped in right away.
“For real, her phone’s been dead quiet for months.”
“That ringtone scared the hell out of me. Did she set it just for that call?”
“She looked super anxious. Is it her husband?”
John’s face tightened for a moment. He spun a pen between his fingers, trying to sound casual. “Don’t start speculating. Emmy’s always been all about her work.”
“A ringtone like that is probably just for some company emergency or tech disaster.”
Even as he said it, John’s eyes drifted toward the break room. Through the glass door, he could see Emmy, slumped in a corner on the sofa with her back to everyone. She was gripping her phone like it was a lifeline, her other hand pressed hard against her mouth to muffle any sound.
Her shoulders were shaking. She was definitely crying.
John’s grip on his pen tightened, a deep crease forming between his brows.
Who could be on the other end of that call? Who could make Emmy—always so collected and cool—fall apart in seconds?
...
Inside the break room.
The moment the video connected, Emmy’s last bit of composure shattered. The face on her screen was all it took.
The picture was a little fuzzy and laggy, but she could see he’d tried to tidy up. Beard gone. Hair cut short. His features looked even more sharp and striking.
But right away, her eyes landed on the heavy dark circles under his eyes. The red, webbed veins in his eyes looked almost frightening. He looked utterly drained, beyond exhausted.
His usual fair skin had turned rough and dull, marked with fresh little cuts.
Even through a screen, Emmy could almost smell the mix of gunpowder, dirt, and blood that clung to him.
Tears started falling, unstoppable, pouring down her face.
On the other side, James sat on his bunk, panic written all over his face as he watched her break down. He leaned closer, his eyes wide with worry.


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