บท 154: That's not my name

Robin furrows her brow, her knuckles white as she grips the ornate, mahogany door of Ramsey's study.

The muffled sounds within pique her curiosity;

Ramsey's voice, usually a deep baritone, is laced with an unusual tension. But it's the other voice that truly unsettles her – a low, melodious contralto, a woman's voice, weaving through Ramsey's pronouncements.

Robin presses her ear closer to the wood, straining to decipher the conversation.

Fragments of words pierce the muffled sounds: "…territory…border protection…negotiations…unacceptable…" The words are jarring, out of place, out of context really. Why would he be talking about that? And with a woman?

A prickle of unease runs down Robin's spine.

She shifts her weight, her heart thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs.