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Swiping, I hold my phone to my ear.
“You should go home,” he says.
I close my eyes.
I haven’t heard his voice in a long time. It’s quiet, parts of his words falling to whispers but always strong. Strolling to the window, I tip my chin a little higher as I stare into the dark night.
“How do you know where I am?” I ask.
Hunter is silent for a moment. And then finally, he repeats, “You should go home.”
“Then come and get me.”
I have no idea what’s going on or how he knows I left Shelburne Falls, but if he’s worried and wants me home, then he can come here and make me. He had his chance to answer the phone. Or any one of my texts.
“Where are you?” I ask. “You’re not at Ciaran’s anymore.”
He was staying with his grandfather in the Chicago suburbs while he attended St. Matthew’s. If he’s not going to school there this year, then where is he?
“Are you home?” I press. “Maybe in Hawke’s hideout doing your classes online?”
Lurking right under our noses…
Hawke discovered Carnival Tower, and since one of the entrances is in Frosted, we can access it easily. Especially since Frosted is only open in the summers right now with Quinn still attending college at Notre Dame, and we don’t have to worry about her finding out and telling our parents.
She’s our dads’ sister, but we don’t call her aunt. It feels weird. With only a few years on us, she’s more of a cousin to us.
Maybe Hunter knows about it, and that’s where he’s been. I don’t give a shit.
“Are you strong now?” I taunt. “Did you come back to face us finally?”
“You think I still have a chip on my shoulder after a year?” Hunter keeps his tone low. “I have my own life now. You’re not that important.”
Leaves sway in the light breeze, and I notice the music outside has long-since stopped. I only hear him in my ear.
It’s good to know where I stand. As if his silence over the past several months wasn’t enough of a hint.
“Neither are you,” I tell him. “Either of you. So let me be.”
I’m staying.
He’s quiet for several moments, and I expect to hear the click of him hanging up, but before he does, he speaks one more time. “You’re not alone in that house.”
My stomach dips, and he ends the call.
What?
I train my ears, listening.
But the house is quiet. He’s just trying to scare me off. If he really thought I was in danger, he’d haul me out of here. He may be angry for whatever reason, but he wouldn’t let me be hurt.
Would he?
I hover my thumb over my phone screen, diving in and opening the app. I never looked in the year he’s been gone, because I always thought I knew where he was, and it wasn’t cool to be some kind of stalker.
But I click on Hunter’s name, and a blue dot suddenlyappears, the location of the phone he just called me from right next to me.
I zoom in, again and again, and I stop breathing.
