Dorian sighed at the paper and watched Amelia walk away before abandoning the list on the edge of the desk. She sat down and distracted herself with the latest headlines on the local news websites. "What is taking them so long?" she muttered.
Around her, volunteers and employees went over charts, made phone calls, analyzed polls, and discussed strategy. Dorian frowned at her computer.
As if on queue her cell phone chimed. Not thinking much of it, she picked up the phone, but it grasped her full attention when she read the text message from a number she did not recognize:
They know you did it.
She stared at the message curiously. Who were "they?" And what was "it?" She considered for a while, thinking through all her recent actions and darkest secrets before shrugging and answering.
Wrong number?
She set the phone aside but there was an immediate reply.
Dorian Lord.
Her brows knitted in concern and confusion. She glanced around the room at all the distractions and tried to discern who might be on their phone before she answered the text again.
Who is this?
She waited. There was no reply. She held her phone up and typed the unrecognized phone number into the Llannet search box on her computer. The only thing she could determine was that it was a number obtained from somewhere outside of Philadelphia.
Who knows what?
Dorian tried to ignore her phone by picking up Amelia's list. She attempted to concentrate on it for five solid minutes before she gave up and stirred in her purse. She did not find what she was looking for.
She checked her phone again. Nothing.
Dorian grabbed her belongings and stepped away from her desk. "Let David know I'll meet him in time for last-minute debate prep. I have some business I need to attend to."
Their campaign secretary blinked up at Dorian and watched her disappear as she failed to reply in time. "But you just … got here…."