5
Geneva, Switzerland
With her face buried in a pillow, Driver reached out a hand and felt around on the bedside table. Even in the midst of her deepest sleep, she was easily woken by the smallest sudden noise. So the buzz of her phone had dragged her kicking and screaming out of slumber.
Driver felt the cool, flat glass of the screen of her phone under her palm. She pulled it into bed with her and rolled onto her side. The screen lit up bright under the duvet. It was five-ten A.M. and she’d enjoyed a whole four hours of sleep since the long drive home to Geneva.
With sticky, squinting eyes, Driver read the text message on her phone. It was from a contact listed as Work. The text read: Can you come into the office?
It meant one thing. She had to get up. Then and there. Driver dropped
