Aldric's contact stopped returning her calls in October.
Isabella had felt it coming. The way you felt a room getting colder before anyone admitted there was a draft. The specific temperature drop of people who had found you useful deciding they were finished. Aldric had needed her access. While the access produced results he had been patient and attentive. The moment Roman found the message logs and the whole operation became a liability, she had ceased to exist to him.
Roman had cut contact the same day he called and said I know about Aldric and hung up before she could say a single word back. She had tried twice more. He hadn't answered either time. His silence was its own kind of statement, and it was permanent, and she had understood it was permanent from the first unanswered call.
