Fault Lines and First Moves
The sun hadn’t even risen when Calla opened her eyes.
Not that she’d slept and the hours between midnight and morning had been broken up by restless tossing, lit phone screens, and the constant hum of dread humming beneath her ribcage.
They’ll come for you next. Better run.
The anonymous message from last night still lived in her veins like static. It hadn’t said her name. But it didn’t need to.
And despite every instinct screaming at her to vanish — to call in sick, to disappear into the shadows like so many others had before—she got up.
Because fear had burned itself out.
In its place sat something quieter. Heavier.
A still kind of fury.
She didn’t want to survive today. She wanted answers.
The coffee was bitter and under drunk. Her black sweater clu
