Camila tapped her fingernail against the smooth surface of her espresso cup, the rhythmic click echoing softly in the dimly lit café. Across from her, a newspaper lay abandoned, its headlines blurred by the steam rising from her coffee. Her gaze was distant, lost in thought, when her phone buzzed insistently against the tabletop.

　　"Camila Martinez," she answered, her voice a steady cadence of control.

　　"Did you hear about Blake?" The voice on the other end ...