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It’s my mom, but it’s late. Why is she texting me this late?
And then my phone buzzes again and I realize it’s not a text. It’s a call.
I push myself up in my bed, leaning back against the wall and looking down at my phone like it’s a rat that might crawl on me. I don’t touch it until the ringing stops, and then I see a text flash across the screen.
“Please answer your phone, I need to talk to you!!!”
Excessive use of exclamation points, but… something might be wrong.
Do I care? She certainly didn’t care when something was wrong in my life, and I’ve washed my hands of them completely, so I’m not sure I do.
But it’s the first time I think about texting back.
Turns out, I don’t have to.
Another text comes through.
“We’ve been robbed! Someone broke into our house Brynn!! They shot AJ. They took your sister and no one believes me. They think she’s involved, they found these sick letters and they say she wrote them but she wouldn’t write this shit! I need you to talk to the police and tell them she wasn’t a writer. That she’d never write this kind of crap. They’ve got it all wrong and they won’t listen to me!!”
My blood runs cold, and acting on instincts I thought I’d buried, I dial her number to make sure everything is okay.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh,” she says, whining. “Oh, Brynn. I need you to come home. I need you to—you know that chest you used to keep your writing stuff in when you went through that phase? Those notebooks and stuff. I looked for them, but they’re not in your bedroom closet anymore. It sounded more like something you would write, not your sister. But it was in her handwriting, and it described exactly what they did but with all this perverted stuff. They said she’s involved, but she would never be involved. She loved her father. She would never do this. And I’m telling you, they planted these letters, but no one believes me. They say it’s clearly her handwriting, they compared samples, and I don’t know what to do. They won’t even look for her and I… I don’t know where she is or if she’s even okay.”
I try to process everything she’s saying, but her words always tend to come out in a chaotic ramble.
I think I get the gist.
Intruders.
Robbery.
Some of my stuff is gone, because I never took my story chest out of my closet. It’s one of the things I had to leave behind because it wasn’t essential, and I could only fit the essentials in my car.
But my sister is missing.
We aren’t close, obviously. We haven’t spoken since I left home, but…
“I… I shouldn’t have called. I have to go.”
“Brynn!”
I ignore her attempt to keep me on the line and hang up my phone.
And then I block her number.
But I text a different one.
“Where are you?” I ask Killian.
He doesn’t text me back.
That probably means he’s asleep, but I still keep my phone open on my bed in case he answers.
I fall asleep waiting for him, and when my alarm wakes me up, I see he still hasn’t responded.
I frown, realizing I got so caught up yesterday, I didn’t notice…
