Two hours after leaving the hospital I scurried back to my tiny hotel room. Delayed by the thick hospital walls and spotty cell service, several belated texts and voicemails from Cain had begun blowing up my phone. I didn’t bother with any of them, calling him directly instead.
“Lina?”
“I’m here.”
“What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” One of Cain’s great strengths was his ability to sound calm right up until he exploded with a series of questions and observations which were all completely based on fact, not emotion or speculation, and liberally peppered with profanity. Like a cloudbank in the distance, I could sense that explosion on the horizon.
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