THE Escobar mansion glowed with its usual warmth, even at night. Orlanda was nestled inside the guest room she had been shown earlier, a room rich with elegance yet gentle in ambiance. She stood by the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the soft fabric of the new pair of pyjamas a maid had just brought in. She smiled faintly. They were luxurious, silky, smooth, and clearly expensive.

She had just turned to lay them on the bed when her phone buzzed.

A strange number lit up her screen. Frowning, she picked up and answered.

“Hello?”

A voice, firm, familiar, and laced with a subtle trace of anxiety came...