She flinches, her face turning pink. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m so sorry…” “It’s too late.” “No. No. Please…. You can’t…” She looks down at her phone, a pathetically hopeful expression on her face. “Nick will come. You won’t get away with it…” “No,” I say, “he won’t come.” Then I drop the bombshell on her. I reach into my purse with my free hand and pull out the phone I swiped from the front desk. “Because I have his phone.”
