MATEO'S POV

London – my office, late afternoon

The call with Isabella this morning had been short-too short. She'd sounded off, like her voice was coming through cotton. I'd asked about Olga, about work, about whether she'd eaten anything besides coffee. She'd laughed it off, said she was fine, just tired. I believed her because I wanted to. Because she'd said "I love you too" before hanging up, and that sentence had been looping in my head like a drug ever since.

But there was just this gut feeling. Like something had happened or something was happening!

I could feel it in my chest. Like my heartbeat was louder or...