(Casey's POV)
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"You're… there?" I echoed after a long, stunned pause. My voice came out brittle, hollow, almost as if I were speaking underwater—or to a ghost. It didn't sound like me. It didn't feel like me.
I blinked rapidly, struggling to orient myself to the moment. My fingers clenched tighter around the phone, as though I could tether myself to reality through sheer pressure alone.
I shook my head—uselessly, irrationally, because she couldn't see me—trying to shake off the growing chill inching its way up my spine. "That's… that's good," I managed to say at last. I swallowed hard. "That's really good. So, uh… what do you see?"
Janet didn't answer immediately. On the other end of the line, I could hear the muffled rustle of movement. Fabric brushing against fabric. Metal softly clinking. Her hand, maybe, rummaging through her purse. The subtle sounds that mean nothing—until they suddenly mean everything.
