He paused.
“Because I’ve met her.”
My hand tightened around the key.
“I understand what you’re saying,” he continued. “But if Victor already knows—”
I turned.
Daniel saw me and immediately ended the call.
“Who is Victor?”
“No one.”
“That isn’t true.”
He slid his phone into his pocket.
“I’m sorry.”
“You were talking about someone who might know I’m here.”
“I don’t know whether he does.”
“Who is he?”
Daniel glanced toward the dining room, where Mrs. Alvarez was filling a paper bag with sandwiches.
“Victor Lang was Claire’s
