Owen’s phone rang, but it wasn’t as loud as usual. He searched his desk for the device, not seeing it. “Where is it?” He pushed his chair back and searched the floor. There, a flash of light between the two pieces of his desk unit.
He stretched for it, but he seemed to be moving in slow motion. He touched the phone right when it stopped ringing, and his fingers scrabbled along the smooth surface, trying to get it to slide out.
Finally, he got it and straightened, a groan leaking out of his mouth. “Gina.”
He jammed his finger on the call button, hoping she’d pick up. Praying.
callWhen she said, “Owen,” in a broken voice, he shot to standing.
“Gina, what’s going on there?” He didn’t care how he sounded. She was in distress, and he hated with everything in him that he’d stayed on the isl
