C7 The Wrong Voice

Ava didn't move.

The recording hissed in Giulia's hand; her father's voice echoed in the narrow corridor, calm and warm and wrong in a way that she felt in her molars.

"Then it's agreed. Bring her to me when it's time."

"Play it again."

Giulia's brows went up. "Of course."

She tapped the screen, and the same crackling sound followed, the same chair scraping, the same low, gentle voice