The Price Of Us
I asked, leaning closer to the phone.
"Name is still under wraps, but the code used: Red."
"Track it," I ordered.
“Already on it," they confirmed.
I hung up the phone and started back up the stairs when it buzzed again.
One new message flashed on the screen.
Blocked sender. An unknown number.
With cautious curiosity, I opened it.
Just one image appeared.
It was blurry and clearly taken from a distance, yet it was unmistakably clear.
There stood Louis, silhouetted against the dim light, positioned in front of the west wing.
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