OLIVIA
The heavy silence of my bedroom was completely suffocating. For the past three days, I had paced the exact same stretch of hardwood floor, my bare feet wearing a familiar path into the expensive rug. Bruno had kept his dark promise. I was a prisoner in my own home, the deadbolt locked securely from the outside.
A cheap, prepaid burner phone sat heavy in my sweating palm. I had managed to steal it from a careless estate maid two days ago, hiding it meticulously inside the lining of my mattress. It was my very last lifeline to the outside world.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart hammering violently against my ribs, and dialed the international number.
The line rang four times before a cautious, older voice answered. "Hello?"
"Thomas," I breathed, keeping my voice to a frant
