Edward's Point Of View
"Keep quiet."
The words left my mouth before the man on the other end could finish whatever cautious explanation he had started forming. My voice came out low, controlled, but the irritation underneath it was clear.
For a moment, the line went silent.
Not completely silent. I could still hear the faint crackle of the connection, the distant hum that always lived inside phone calls. Then the man sighed.
A long, tired sound.
"What exactly do you want me to do?" he asked.
His voice had changed. The earlier politeness had thinned, replaced with something more careful.
"I hope," he continued slowly, "it's something reasonable."
I leaned back slightly against the edge of the desk, my fingers tightening around the phone. The overhead light cast a dull reflection across the polished wood surface beside me.
"I want her fired."
The words came out flat.
Direct.
There was no hesitation in them.
