51
Emma
My phone rings as I’m on the floor, wrestling with the zipper of the suitcase. Thinking it’s my grandparents, I grab the phone from the bed without looking and hit “Accept”—only to freeze in disbelief, staring at the name on the screen.
It’s Marcus.
He’s calling me.
Right now.
“Emma?” His voice is rich and deep, audible even without the loudspeaker being on. “Emma, kitten, can you hear me?”
Jumping to my feet, I end the call. My finger hits the red button on the screen without my conscious decision.
Then, blood drumming in my temples, I stare at the phone in my hand.
Did I hallucinate this, or did it really happen?
The phone rings again, Marcus’s name appearing on the screen.
I hit “Decline” again, my heart hammering so fast I can hardly think.
What does he want?
Why c
