I had already turned on my heel, the hallway stretching before me already looking like a golden tunnel of escape, when a voice halted me from the opposite direction.
"¿Con quién hablas, Camilla? What are you doing?"
I paused, hardly resisting the urge to let out a low and tired groan. Álvaro had emerged from around the corner like a stormcloud on legs. My brother was shirtless, and glistening with fresh sweat from the gym, veins bulging like he was on standby for a heart attack. His eyes settled on me, then flicked to his wife with apparent suspicion.
Camilla didn't even flinch. She took a slow drag of air like she was drawing strength from it, then turned toward him with a face so blank it was insulting.
"Are you blind?" she snapped. "I'm talking to Axel."
Álvaro's face tightened. The temperature in the hallway dropped like someone had opened the freezer. He took a menacing step forward.
"What did you say?"
