Fedora's eyes widened, his posture rigid as he leaned in, his entire frame vibrating with the electric, nervous anticipation of another earth-shattering reveal. But the next words out of Sarah's mouth hit him like a bucket of ice water, causing him to straighten up, his shoulders dropping in a rush of unadulterated, sagging relief.
"I think he said it was... some kind of Mexican name... I think he said it was Miguel, or something of that sort!"
Sarah announced.
Her brows knit together when she noticed the look on her brother's face, the raw, mounting dread had vanished instantly, replaced by a look of profound relief, now curdling into a sharp, deeply judgmental side-eye.
Sarah shook her head subtly, confusion carving deep, lines into her face.
"What?!" she snapped, mirroring his grimace.
"What's with that look? You think I'm making this up?"
