“Uh,” Reza intones, drawing it out, “yesterday, day before. Something. Finn wanted to, like. Show him off. I think.” His words are choppy like he’s scaling stairs, syllables bouncing with each step. “Took me to the catacomb.”
“Did he.” Of course he did. Finn and Reza get on nearly too well these days, early misgivings traded in for medical babble and shared jokes that they never elaborate on. Vince hasn’t even been able to pry explanations out of Finn when they’re tipsy and marathoning bad telly at his flat, which is how he knows the situation is bordering severe.
“Love it there,” Reza tells him. There are city sounds filtering through the mobile, Reza likely winding through the sparsely populated early morning streets.
Likely on his way here. “I can’t get you into Durand’s lab,” Vince
