Widow calls Pharah.

Widowmaker watched the shining little text that announced that 'Amari' had left a message for her. She actually smiled. How many people had Fareeha had to call before she had found someone who had given her Amelie's number? It was hardly a secret, but she knew that the Amaris did not play in this kind of a world. She didn't care to listen to the message, only tapping the call button on the screen and hearing the ring play in the headset in her ear.

She walked into her bedroom, slipping off her dress. It was her little pleasure to the crew over her clothing, while she left it lying around so easily in her own home. She had money enough to replace everything she owned a hundred times over and enough clothes to never wear the same thing twice in months. Amelie Lacroix looked out the window over the city in her lingerie as she listened to the ringing, waiting for Fareeha to pick up the phone.

Finally she heard the sound.

"Fareeha," she said, blunt as a hammer.

"Mrs. Lacroix?" Fareeha stammered. "I did not realize you would call me back so quickly." Her English was excellent. She had a lovely accent. No doubt brutes like Morrison would have tried to train it out of her. Thank God Overwatch had fallen before she could fall to far under his influence. "What time is it there?"

"Two in the morning," Amelie said. She didn't look at her watch. "I saw that you had left me a message."

Fareeha made no sound, but Amelie could practically hear her blush, even with that bronze skin of hers. "Yes," she said. There was a silence in the air. Fareeha must have thought that Amelie would ask her questions about the message, or follow up on something she had said, but she did not. She reveled in the Amari girl's awkwardness.

Fareeha wasn't used to feeling awkward. She was a strong woman-- a military woman! But there was something about Lacroix that set a chill down her skin. "The reason I called..."