Cassian

“Mr. Caelian,” Peter called as he walked into my office. I didn’t bother to look up from my desk; the stack of papers in front of me needed my attention, and I was eager to finish so I could see Azalea later.

“Mr. Caelian,” he called again, his voice more insistent.

I sighed, my jaw tightening. “What is it, Peter? What do you need?”

“You have a call,” he informed me.

“From?”

“Your parents.”

The pen in my hand stopped ...