They hadn’t been in the apartment more than five minutes, and already Victoria was struggling to keep her composure.
The four stood in the living room, quiet, composed, and carrying the kind of presence that filled a room without effort. Victoria paced in front of the fireplace, arms crossed tightly over her chest, trying to make sense of what they’d told her.
“So let me get this straight,” she said, voice clipped. “Celeste just...felt something? And vanished?”
The younger of the two men nodded. “We were talking. She was quiet, but alert. Then she froze. Said something was wrong. That she had to leave. And then she was gone.”
“She didn’t explain what was wrong?”
“No. Just said she needed to get back to the city. Fast.”
Victoria rubbed her forehead, frustration beginning to bubble up
