Suddenly, the landline phone on Mrs. Ramirez’s kitchen wall began to ring, its loud, mechanical bell shattering the silence of the room.

The sound vibrated against the faded floral wallpaper.

Mrs. Ramirez jumped back, her hand instantly going to her collarbone.

“Who would be calling at this hour?” she whispered.

I stared at the yellow plastic receiver on the wall.

It rang a second time, loud and demanding.

“It’s him,” I said.

I walked across the linoleum floor and lifted the heavy plastic receiver to my ear.

“Hello?” I said.

A dry, familiar chuckle came through the static of the line.

“I saw the login attempt, Grace,” Ethan said.

His voice was cold, stripped of the charm he used when the cameras were rolling.

“You always were predictable,” he added.

“You cannot keep me out of my own company, Ethan,” I said.

My fingers gripped the plastic receiver until my knuckles turned white.

“It is not your company anymore,” he said.

“I have suspended your administrative access.”

“Your security clearance is gone.”

“You are officially a security threat to Caldwell Innovations.”