Come to Twilight ASAP, Mom.
Since Twyla’s troubling text message, Skylar’s phoned her daughter several times and received no callback or text. Why was her message so vague? Has something happened? Twyla knows she can’t postpone exams and rush straight to the inn. She inhales, closes her eyes for a second, releasing a long, nerve-cleansing breath. Twyla carries her mobile everywhere and never ignores her messages. It must not be urgent because she hasn’t returned her call, but the large font and ASAP bear a hint of urgency.
What’s going on, Twyla?
Sky wiggles her boot-clad foot beneath the oversize desk, stares at her wristwatch for the sixth time in a minute, eager for the undergraduate archaeology midterm exam to end. She glances around the spacious, amphitheater-style classroom at the
