Jonathan pressed send. The message delivered immediately, a small checkmark appearing on the screen. They waited in tense silence.
Five minutes passed. Then ten. Jonathan's broken ribs throbbed with each breath, but he ignored the pain, his eyes fixed on the phone.
At the fifteen-minute mark, the phone buzzed. A response appeared: 'Why should I believe you?'
Jonathan's fingers moved quickly: *You shouldn't. But you need information about Bella, and I have it. I'm risking everything sending you this. Maren's people extracted me from the hospital an hour ago. I'm supposed to be helping them hunt you down right now. Instead I'm reaching out to you. That has to count for something.*
Another pause, longer this time. Jonathan could imagine Angela on the other end, probably with Marcus looking over her shoulder, debating whether this was genuine or an obvious trap.
The phone buzzed again: *If this is a trap, you'll regret it.*
