The clock on the study wall ticked past one in the morning when the phone on Alex's desk buzzed sharply.
He was already awake.
Sleep had been a luxury lately, something he couldn't afford when everything around him was starting to unravel. The glow of the desk lamp cast deep shadows across his face as he stared down at the reports spread before him. Every page felt like a reminder that his control, something he'd always taken pride in was slipping.
The call came through again, urgent this time. He pressed the receiver to his ear.
"Sir," James's voice came, low but steady. "It's Clara. She's moved."
Alex's jaw tensed. "What do you mean, moved?"
"She left her house about an hour ago. they followed her, but she switched cars halfway through. They lost track of her somewhere on the west route."
Alex leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "She switched cars?"
"Yes, sir. She was able to throw them off till she got away"
