Zoe’s fingers shook, the phone slipping from her grasp and landing with a soft thud on her dresser.She picked her phone back, her eyes roving over the message, reading it and re-reading it, trying to tell her brain that it’s spam.Her brain did not co-operate.‘I know what you're planning.’She typed back, her fingers feeling heavy with each letter it touched, ‘who is this?’She deleted it. Zoe typed again‘what do you want?’She deleted that too. Every version felt like handing whoever was on the other end a small, useful piece of her, a reaction to study and a crack to widen to whoever was on the other end of the phone.In the end Zoe typed nothing at all.She set the phone down on her dresser, screen still glowing faintly in the dark room, and pressed both palms flat against her own face, breathing slowly through fingers that smelled faintly of Chloe's vanilla hand cream from the hug goodbye an hour earlier.Her first instinct was to call Nathaniel.Her second instinct, arrivin
Zuletzt aktualisiert : 2026-09-14
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