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There’s only one person I can call. There’s only one person who has more information than I do, who has ways and means of getting things done. And I don’t want to get him into trouble or cause issues for him at work, but I really don’t have any choice. As far as I’m concerned, my life could be in danger. The police don’t think so — there’s been no threat to my life — but I know when I feel intimidated, and that word doesn’t even cover it right now.
I’m shaking as I call Darryl, two of my fingers bleeding from how far back I’ve bitten the nails. But I don’t care. The blood and the physical pain is actually a nice release from the mental anguish and distress I’m feeling.
I don’t even let Darryl speak when he answers the phone, instead leaping straight into trying desperately to let him
