Daphne spins on the drafting stool, pencil behind her ear, the skyline blazing behind her, and lifts one eyebrow at the screen. "Ela, trouble. It's one a.m. and I'm supposed to be working. I have a theory about why you texted. Want to hear it?" Trouble! Perfect timing. I was about to ignore a deadline anyway. Come keep me company and tell me how wrong my theory about you is.