The One-Month Ultimatum

"Mrs. Vance? Are you there? Mrs. Vance!"

The butler’s frantic voice cracked through the dusty cabin, the Bluetooth audio distorting his rising panic. Clara kept her hands locked on the leather steering wheel in a death grip. Her knuckles burned white. Dust continued to swirl through the open windows, coating her tongue with the bitter taste of asphalt and dirt. Just inches beyond her windshield,