Lucen almost smiled. "You gave me the shove."
"I expected another month."
"You should stop expecting things."
For a moment, neither said anything. Just silence, steady and level, like both of them understood too well what this meant. Then Varik said, "You still holding your cover?"
Lucen looked toward the far window. The curtain was still slightly open, but the glass reflected nothing but a tired version of himself.
"Barely."
"Anyone asking questions?"
"Not out loud."
"Keep it that way. We'll be in touch."
"That's it? No instructions?"
"You already know what to do."
Lucen's eyes narrowed faintly. "So I just sit and wait."
Varik's voice dipped, amused but not mocking. "You think I'd give a job like this to someone who waits?"
Then the line cut out.
The laminate flashed once, then dimmed. Dead again. Or at least dormant.
