111_Smoke in the Threads

My phone rang so abruptly it felt like a needle scratching across vinyl in my brain. The sound cut through the low hum of the room, startling me enough that I fumbled it before catching it against my palm.

“I—excuse me a moment,” I murmured to Mike, already stepping away, my pulse doing strange staccato beats.

The name flashing on the screen made my gut twist. Nadia – Atelier Assistant. She never called unless it was important.

“Ma’am—” Her voice was ...