Chapter 6
Miles away in his modern, softly lit home office, Craig sat completely relaxed in his ergonomic chair, the hum of his computer cooling fans providing a steady background rhythm. His smartphone lay flat on the wooden desk right in front of him, the screen illuminating repeatedly with his mother's incoming caller ID flashing in bold white letters. He didn't rush to pick it up; instead, he watched the screen ring through once, twice, letting the uncomfortable silence of his own boundary-setting wash over the room. Sloan sat across from him on the edge of the sofa, holding a steaming mug of black coffee, her eyes fixed on his calm, impassive face. She could hear the faint, muffled electronic buzzing of the phone vibrating against the desk wood, a tiny physical manifestation of the absolute chaos unfolding back in Richmond. Craig finally reached out, picked up the phone on the third ring, and brought it slowly to his ear without a single trace of emotion, anger, or vindictive satisfaction in his posture. "Mother," Craig said, his voice flat, professional, and chillingly polite, sounding more like a systems administrator logging a trouble ticket than a son addressing his parent. On the other end of the line, a sharp, breathless gasp echoed through the receiver, followed by a rush of panicked words that tumbled over each other in absolute disarray. "Craig! Thank God! Listen to me, something is terribly wrong with the bank, or the city, or the automated systems—all my utility bills have red warning notices, the power company is threatening to shut off the electricity in two hours, and the water service is already restricted! You need to fix this right now!" she babbled, her voice climbing an octave with every frantic syllable. Craig didn't interrupt her; he simply listened with steady, measured breathing, his dark-brown hair catching the neutral desk lamp light as he leaned back in his chair. When she finally paused to catch her ragged breath, expecting him to leap into action as he had done thousands of times before, the dead silence on his end stretched out like an abyss. "Craig? Are you listening to me? Call your bank, transfer the funds, do whatever you do! Why isn't it working?" she demanded, her tone flickering between command and desperate plea. Craig let out a quiet, incredibly calm exhale, his eyes staring straight ahead at the blank wall as he prepared to deliver the emotional execution blow. "Mom... remember what you gave me at dinner?" Craig asked, his voice soft, smooth, and laced with a terrifying finality that made Sloan stop mid-sip of her coffee and hold her breath.
