Sophia flinched. "M-my father is a retired civil officer. He worked for the municipal corporation for thirty years—"
"My husband works at Zenith Technologies," Clara interrupted, her voice shaking. "He's a senior analyst in their Prague branch—"
"I work at Redstone Consulting," Priya said quickly, hands wringing together. "I'm a project manager. I've been there for six years—"
Veronica's expression didn't change. She simply reached into the small clutch purse that had been hanging from her shoulder—when had that appeared?—and pulled out her phone.
Sleek. Expensive. The screen lit up her face with cold blue light.
She tapped. Swiped. Held the phone to her ear.
The three women watched, confused and terrified.
"Hello." Veronica's voice was crisp. Professional. "This is Veronica Dalton. I need you to process an immediate transfer." Pause. "Yes, now." Another pause. Her eyes flicked to Sophia. "Account number..."
Sophia's phone buzzed.
She jumped like she'd been shocked.
