Ding!
My heart sank, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
No. No, that couldn’t be right.
I copy and pasted the text I had just sent and clicked send.
Ding!
No. No, no, no.
With shaking fingers, I clicked the contact at the top of the text message. I pressed the green button. On the far left of the room, in a small mahogany dresser, a phone rang.
Sheet still wrapped around my chest, I stepped from the bed with legs of gelatin.
It was like lead weights were strapped to them, making it damn near impossible to clear the distance between me and that dresser at any reasonable speed.
This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.
This had to be a dream. That would explain why I went from so sad earlier, so heartbroken at the loss of my friend, to so euphoric now. Dreams always worked like that.
As I opened the drawer, I said that to myself again. This had to be a dream.
Beside the ringing flip phone was a small handgun.
I grabbed the phone.
The burner phone number lit up the screen, still ringing in my other hand.
I ended the call.
Missed call fromYou Know Wholit up the screen.
New text fromYou Know Who.
You Know Who; Are you sure no one will find the body?
When I scrolled up in the text, they were all familiar. The exact conversations we had had in the past.
It was Sebastian. Sebastian had found the body.
“I wasn’t sure if you were being mindful of your caffeine or not, so I got ginger ale and Pepsi,” he said, voice somewhere down the hall.
I whirled to face the door. Sebastian was just outside, voice as calm and nonchalant as ever. Struggling with a tray of food, he hadn’t so much as looked my way yet. “I wasn’t sure if you would want sweet or savory either, so I got?—”
“It’s you.”
He looked up. Mouth falling open, his eyes flicked between the phone in my hand.
And the gun in the other.
“Shit,” he murmured.
