–Livana–
Sophia examined my eyes as though searching for a truth buried beneath the surface. Her gaze flickered across the room — my study, a gift from my husband, a sanctuary he swore was free of eyes and ears. No cameras. No bugs. Still, Sophia moved like a chess player doubting the silence of the board, her fingers tracing shadows as if secrets might be nesting in the corners.
But today, we wouldn't be speaking of the veil over my vision.
"About the Bishops," she said, her voice still and deliberate. "They've cleaned the jet. The bodies. Not a whisper left. It's as though they had been waiting... watching while we fueled."
"Then they anticipated the move." I tilted my head, fingers laced in thought. "Call the Pawns. From now on, they will manage every leg of my travel. I refuse to leave anything to misfortune."
"I'm on it." Her voice was steady, but her arm trembled — pale and wrapped in gauze, the bandage peeking from her sleeve like a torn flag.
