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CHAPTER 7
Kara stumbled back from the bed, tripping on a pair of boots and catching herself against the wall. Who? Who was alive?
It’s just another prank.
Immediately she thought of Jonas. He was out now, right? Had he texted her in the middle of the night?
No way.
Quivering inside, she returned to her bed and picked up the phone, noticing a voice mail from the same number, a call she’d missed when she’d been asleep.
You mean passed out, don’t you?
Ignoring her stupid conscience, she picked up the phone and listened to the voice mail message.
For a few seconds there was nothing, just some ambient noise. The wind? Air rushing outside a moving car? Labored breathing?
She swallowed hard and pushed aside her racing thoughts as a whisper-thin voice came onto the call.
“She’s alive,” the person said, the voice a raspy whisper.
Was the caller male?
Female?
Impossible to tell.
Click!
Whoever it was had disconnected.
An hour later, the text had come in.
Heart hammering, she texted back.
Who is alive?
She waited.
One minute. Two. After three, she wrote again.
Who are you?
She was sweating though the room was cool. Rhapsody snored softly, and she heard the quiet thrum of the heater pushing warm air through the house over the pounding of her pulse in her ears.
No response.
She looked at the clock. 3:17.
Her stomach knotted as she punched out the number, held the phone to her ear and closed her eyes. One ring, two, three . . . no voice mail box where she could leave a message. Just ringing over and over in her ears.
She imagined the caller on the other end of the connection, staring at the ringing phone, seeing her message and not even bothering to pick up.
Her eyebrows drew together.
Why?
It’s Jonas. You know it is. He’s out and he’s still angry with you, so he’s playing a game. Get ready, Kara, this is going to be bad.
