Moira
The phone was cold in my hand as I listened to Kurt's voice on the other end, laced with skepticism. He had been cautious, always wary, but he didn't understand just how much control I still had over him. Not yet, at least.
"You really want me to come back and do this, Moira?" His voice cracked slightly. "After everything?"
"Don't be so dramatic, Kurt," I said, allowing a hint of amusement to creep into my tone. "Remember you owe me. You've always owed me. I gave you a way out when you were desperate, didn't I? If not for me, you wouldn't be alive to answer this call right now." I needed to juggle him memory.
There was a pause, and I imagined him clenching his jaw, trying to summon some semblance of defiance. But I knew him well enough to know he was weak. He'd always been weak, especially when cornered.
"Fine," he finally muttered, his voice small. "I'll come back. But this better work out the way you say it will, Moira."