The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Mia's voice, barely a whisper, hung in the air as the phone speaker crackled on the other end.
The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressed down on her, each heartbeat a drumbeat of anticipation.
Jeff, his hand tight on Mia's shoulder, exchanged a worried glance with Harry.
A beat of silence stretched into an eternity, punctuated only by Mia's ragged breathing. Then, a voice, colder than the winter wind, cut through the tense silence.
"Vanessa?" Henry's voice boomed through the speaker, disbelief tinged with a flicker of something that might have been anger. "Is that really you?"
Mia flinched at the sound, squeezing her eyes shut. "Yes," she croaked, her voice gaining a sliver of strength with each syllable. "It's me."
