Amelia's POV Rodriguez called at eight that evening."She'll speak to you," she said. "Ten minutes. Video call, secure line. She's calm but she tires easily right now. Keep it brief.""I will," I said."And Amelia." Rodriguez's voice was the same flat careful tone she always used, but something underneath it had shifted slightly. "She has something to tell you. I've asked her to tell you herself rather than having me relay it. It will be better coming from her."I held the phone for a moment."Alright," I said.The secure call connected at eight fifteen.Nadia looked smaller on the screen than she had in her flat. Not physically, she was the same slight build, the same careful way of holding herself. But the flat had given her a context, her work table and her fabric samples and her organised corkboard, the infrastructure of a life she had built carefully around herself. The safe house room behind her had none of that. A plain wall. A functional lamp. The temporary, provisional quali
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