KISAREL.
We dialed the strange number for the sixth time and got the same nothing we had gotten five times before.
Elgin made a sound beside me that sat somewhere between frustration and dread and started pacing the length of Gerald's small living room.
"Maybe try again later," I said. "Could be a flat battery. Could be anything."
"Could be anything," he repeated, not like he was agreeing but like he was turning the phrase over and finding it insufficient. He stopped pacing for a moment. "I have a very bad feeling about this, Arel. A very specific, very French bad feeling, which is the worst kind because the French have always had an excellent instinct for disaster."
"We don't need to panic just yet—"
"I'm not panicking. I'm having a feeling. There's a difference." He resumed pacing.
