Before Penelope could offer a word of thanks or further explanation, the line cut. The call ended abruptly, leaving silence in its wake.
A second later, a loud collective exhale filled the room.
From Penelope—whose hands were still trembling slightly—to Poppi, who had been so still during the call she might as well have been a statue. Both women had been holding their breath the entire time.
Penelope leaned against the edge of the table, her legs weak from the adrenaline. Poppi, on the other hand, clenched her jaw, her mind already racing for next steps.
Penelope could hardly believe it. The old woman had actually bought the lie—every word of it. It was almost too easy.
A stunned laugh bubbled up in her throat, though she swallowed it quickly. Maybe I really should take that acting career seriously, she thought wryly. If I can fool the Berlin matriarch, I could probably win an award.
But the fleeting thrill didn't last.
