Zeke's voice was rushed. "Which airport are you at right now?"
"JFK," Margaret replied.
"Which terminal?"
"Terminal 1."
"Did you talk to her?" he asked, already putting on the suit jacket that had been draped over his chair.
"Yes, we spoke," Margaret said, clearly amused by her son's urgency.
Still moving, Zeke held the phone between his shoulder and ear. "Did she say where she was going?"
Margaret sounded confused. "What do you mean?"
"Is she flying somewhere?" Zeke clarified, reaching for his keys on the desk. "Did she tell you if she's leaving again?"
From across the office, Andrew watched Zeke move quickly, concern flashing in his eyes. There was an important board meeting in minutes, and Zeke looked like he was about to disappear.
Margaret frowned on the other end of the line. "Did I say she was leaving? Hmm... I don't remember saying that."
Zeke stopped cold in the hallway. His hand came up, rubbing his face with frustration. He couldn't believe himself.
