Ethan’s name lit up the screen.

I tapped the speaker button and set the phone next to a fourteen-hundred-dollar trauma kit.

“Grace, I’m glad I caught you before your shift gets busy,” Ethan said, his voice carrying the polished, persuasive rhythm of a corporate pitch deck.

“I’m finalizing the seating and logistics for the dinner at the Aspen estate.”

“I’m on duty, Ethan,” I said, sliding a lithium battery pack into a radio casing.

“State your business.”