The phone rang three times before it was answered.
“Hello, this is Jason Zane.”
The voice on the other end was warm and composed, the kind that carried a natural confidence—unhurried, polished, and effortlessly pleasant. It was the sort of voice that made people instinctively lower their guard, as if the speaker had nothing to hide and nothing to fear.
The moment Mrs. Lacy heard it, her entire demeanor changed.
Her tense posture softened. The sharp lines around her mouth smoothed into a practiced smile, even though the man on the other end couldn’t see her. She lowered her voice deliberately, adopting a tone that was almost affectionate.
“Ah, Jason, it’s me,” she said gently. “Sarah’s mother.”
There was a brief pause, followed by an equally courteous reply. “Hello, Auntie. Is somethi
