Gustavo finished his call and returned to the room, his face a mask of anger. He dropped into his seat, his hand gripping the little jotter as if it might escape him. His tone was sharper when he spoke, pushing forward despite the frustration clearly written across his features. "What about the next day?" he demanded, trying to regain his focus.
Emily swallowed hard, trying to steady herself. She had hoped they were nearing the end of this relentless interrogation, but it seemed Gustavo was determined to peel back every layer. "We got there, and this time we were determined to go in," she began, her voice trembling with the weight of memory.
---
Two Hours Earlier
Gustavo waited in a dimly lit office, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and paper. It took thirty minutes for the
