ALEXANDER

We looked at the screen together, yet I made no move to pick it up. The week and the one before had been a hell of a ride, I couldn't afford to hear another terrible news.

"Pick it up," Rubby whispered, running her finger over my arms.

I hesitated for a moment, then answered. "Yes?"

His voice came through, gently and a little hesitant. "Alexander, it's me, I wasn't sure you would pick up."

"I did, and who, please?"

"Mr. Andrew."

Rubby, who had been listening, leaned ...