Julian was at his desk-document open, pen in hand, the posture of someone deep inside something specific. He looked up at her with calm, unhurried attention.
"I'm sorry to interrupt."
"It's fine. What do you need?"
"Today is the biweekly call allowance. The international call home. I forgot to ask Frederick about the external line access code before he left this morning, and I'm not sure of the procedure for reaching him now."
Julian looked at the telephone on his desk. Then at her. "Use this one," he said. He pushed the handset toward her. "No code. Go ahead."
"I don't want to impose-"
"You're not imposing." He had already returned to the document. "Go ahead."
She crossed the study and stood beside his desk and picked up the receiver with both hands, acutely aware of every element of the situation. His desk. His phone. His room. Him sitting three feet away. The only way through it was to do the thing quickly and professionally and not overthink any of it.
She dialed the international string. Ring. Two. Three.
"Hello?" Lea's voice: immediate, alert, fully awake, the way she always answered-like she expected important news every time.
"Lea. It's me."
A rush: "Ate! I thought you forgot! It's been almost three weeks-"
"It's been exactly two weeks." Isabelle switched briefly to Tagalog: "On schedule. As promised."
"It felt like three." Lea's voice shifted into something more uncertain. "How are you? Is it nice there? Are you cold? Are you eating enough vegetables?"
"I'm fine. I'm genuinely fine. How was school?"
"Terrible. Miss Cruz assigned seven pages on the water cycle. Seven pages, Ate. I nearly didn't survive."
"Water is important."
"I know water is important. I drink it every day without needing seven pages to explain why." A beat. "When are you coming home?"
Isabelle had been bracing for this. "A year, probably. Maybe slightly less if things go well here. But probably a year."
Silence.
"Lea-"
"I know." Very small. "I'm not going to cry."
"You can if you want."
"I said I'm not." A dignified sniff. Then-Lea's default setting reasserted itself, which was relentlessly, stubbornly forward: "Okay. While I have you on the line. I need you to memorize something important."
Isabelle almost smiled despite herself. "What?"
"A Pikachu. The big stuffed one-not the small one. Miss Santos has the small one and it looks like it came from a petrol station. They have the big one at the toy store near SM. Tell Papa."
"Lea, those cost-"
"It's for Christmas. I'm informing you now so you have two months to plan. This is responsible financial management."
"It's October."