Evelin's POV
"Evelin, aren't you some retired soldier? Don't you love playing the saint? Well, here's your shot." Grace's voice crackled through my phone's speaker, crystal clear.
Grace's face flushed crimson as she lunged for my phone, desperation written all over her features.
I simply raised my other arm, blocking her path effortlessly. The audio kept rolling.
"Just say you're sorry. Make it good, and I'll fly that chopper out to save those people. But tick me off? Well, I might just screw up the whole rescue. And when those Elysia Group workers don't make it home tonight, that blood's on your hands!" Her recorded voice rang out with chilling clarity.
When the playback ended, dead silence filled the studio. Every face in the audience stared at Grace like she'd grown a second head.
Nobody expected their so-called "hero" to drop words like that.
