The chair scraped against the floor before I even realized I was standing. The fork clattered against the plate, rice scattering like ash across the hardwood.
"Reynard?" Sienna's voice barely registered.
I didn't answer. I was already moving.
My coat was still warm from the walk home, but I yanked it on anyway and grabbed the mask from the table's edge, fingers fumbling in quiet urgency. My phone was still open in my hand, the picture glaring back at me like it had teeth.
They were inside.
Or worse—they were close enough to make it feel that way.
I stepped into the hall and hit the elevator button three times in quick succession. The delay was unbearable. The silence behind me even worse. But I didn't stop to explain. Not now.
As the elevator doors opened, I lifted the burner phone from my coat's inner pocket.
I tapped Anthony's number. The line buzzed once, twice—
