Simultaneously, in the private quarters of Francis's lavish bedroom, his hand reached out to grasp the telephone, lifting it off its cradle with a sense of urgency. With swift, deliberate movements, he dialed a specific series of numbers, connecting him across borders to Germany. The telephone emitted a series of rings, each one resonating through the room, as he awaited the familiar voice of his wife, Charlotte, on the other end of the line.
As the rings continued, Francis felt a mix of anticipation and impatience. He tapped his foot on the floor, his fingers drumming against the telephone. He knew that the international call might take a while to connect, but every second felt longer than usual.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the ringing stopped, and he heard the soft click of the line connecting. "Hello?" came a voice from the other end, slightly crackling due to the long distance.