REINA

Elisa didn't stop moving.

The moment we cleared the doorway she had my wrist in a iron grip, pulling me down the corridor at a pace that was just short of running, her riding boots striking the marble floor in sharp, urgent rhythms. Her other hand was pressed flat against her collarbone, fingers curled tight, like she was physically holding herself together.

"I couldn't get hold of Paolo," she said, the words tumbling out rapid and breathless. "I tried three times. Then I thought — fine. I'll go to Reina's. I've been sitting alone in that apartment for forty minutes. Forty minutes, Reina, do you know how long that...