He walked to the far corner of the boardroom by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Traffic on Route 4 crept along in a steady gray line far below.

Little brake lights flashed red in the afternoon shadow.

He hit the green answer button and held the phone to his ear.

He pressed his other hand over his free ear.

“Noah, I’m here,” Michael said.

He heard shallow breathing.

A TV was blaring in the background.