The quiet hum of the evening air conditioner was the only sound in the dim maid’s quarters as Carolina sat on the edge of her narrow bed, phone in hand, staring at Devon’s contact for what felt like an eternity. Her finger hovered over the call button. Then she pressed it. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

“Carolina?” Devon’s voice filled her ear, deep and warm, but tinged with concern. “Hey, is everything okay? I’ve been trying to reach you. You—”

“Devon, I need to tell ...