The Call I Shouldn’t Make
1129 Words
POV: Amy
I stared at the card long after the apartment had gone dark.
A white rectangle on the table, thin and silent, yet somehow the loudest thing in the room.
If you want to know the truth, call.
Sofia’s voice replayed in my head—smooth, controlled, too confident.
She knew David.
She knew about me.
She found me in my hospital.
That alone should have been enough to throw the card in the trash.
And yet…
I picked it up.
Held it between my fingers.
Flipped it over.
Back and forth, back and forth—like maybe something would reveal itself if I stared hard enough.
It didn’t.
Just a number.
A promise of answers.
Or the beginning of something worse.
Nathan’s text echoed:
Don’t trust her.
I didn’t.
But that didn’t stop the gnawing question—
Why did she seek me out?
What did she want?
And most of all—
What did she know about David that I didn’t?
The apartment felt too small.
Too quiet.
Every second stretched tight, like the air was waiting for me to make a choice.
I closed my eyes and told myself the right thing—the smart thing—was to wait.
Wait for David.
Wait for him to come back and explain.
Wait for the danger to pass.
But patience hurt.
And fear hurt more.
I stood abruptly, grabbing my phone before I lost courage.
I typed the number.
My thumb hovered over the call button.
Don’t trust her.
Wait.
He’ll come back.
I hit Call anyway.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
A third time.
My heartbeat was loud—too loud.
Then—
A click.
“Hello, Amy.”
Her voice was velvet.
Unhurried.
Like she’d been expecting me.
I swallowed.
“You know my number.”
“I know many things,” she replied lightly.
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“What do you want?”
“To help you.”
A humorless laugh escaped before I could stop it.
“You don’t know me.”
“No,” she said.
“But I know David.
And that’s enough.”
My skin prickled.
“Who are you to him?”
“A long time ago, I was someone he trusted.”
Past tense.
“What happened?”
“Life,” she said simply.
“And consequences.”
Cold pooled in my stomach.
“What consequences?”
Sofia sighed softly, as though I were a stubborn child.
“David left because he thought it would keep you safe. He’s wrong.”
My breath hitched.
“He doesn’t understand,” she continued, “that distance won’t protect you. Not from the people pursuing him.”
My fingers shook.
“What do they want?” I whispered.
“A debt,” she said.
“And they don’t care who they hurt to collect it.”
My blood ran cold.
“That’s why I came to you. Not to scare you—but to prepare you.”
I sank onto the couch.
“Who is Rafe?” I asked.
Silence.
Long.
Heavy.
When she finally answered, her voice dropped.
“A man with no patience and no mercy. Someone David once aligned himself with… before he realized some doors should never be opened.”
My pulse thundered.
“What kind of door?”
Sofia hesitated.
“A dangerous one. The kind that traps both sides.”
“What did David do?”
More silence.
Then—
“He made a choice. One that saved him… and condemned someone else.”
“Condemned?” I choked.
She exhaled.
“You’re asking the right questions. But you’re not ready for the answers.”
Frustration flared hot inside me.
“Then why call?”
My voice rose sharper than I intended.
“Why come find me if you’re just going to talk in riddles?”
A pause.
Then her tone softened.
“Because you deserve a warning.”
Warning.
There it was again.
“Rafe won’t wait forever,” she said.
“When he grows impatient, he’ll come here. For you.”
My breath punched out.
“Why me?”
“Because David cares about you. And the easiest way to break a man is through what he loves.”
My heart rammed against my ribs.
“He’ll come back,” I whispered, clinging to the only thread I had.
“He promised.”
Sofia hummed low—a sound between pity and disbelief.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said gently.
“Men like David don’t get to keep promises. Not when the world they left behind comes to collect.”
Heat pricked my eyes.
“You don’t know him.”
“I knew him before he knew himself,” she replied.
“But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is?”
“That when Rafe arrives, you need to be ready.”
A chill crawled up my spine.
“Ready for what?”
“To run,” she said simply.
My pulse tripped.
“I’m not leaving,” I whispered.
“I’m not abandoning him.”
“That’s precisely what he’s doing for you.”
The words hit like a slap.
I shut my eyes.
“You’re lying,” I breathed.
She didn’t argue.
That somehow made it worse.
Then her voice softened again.
“You remind me of someone,” she said.
“Someone who once thought love was enough to change things.”
“What happened to her?”
Her silence was answer enough.
I swallowed hard.
“What do you want from me?” I whispered.
“Nothing,” she said.
“I only want you alive.”
My chest tightened.
“And if I don’t run?”
A pause.
“Then you’d better hope he gets to you first.”
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, numb fingers still gripping it.
My apartment felt suddenly foreign—too open, too vulnerable.
The shadows seemed deeper.
The silence heavier.
I dropped the phone and pressed my face into my hands.
What had I just stepped into?
What was David hiding?
And how many pieces were about to break because I made a single call?
A knock shattered the quiet.
A single, sharp knock.
My head jerked up.
The air inside me froze.
I didn’t move—just stared at the door, breath caught in my throat.
Another knock.
Soft.
Patient.
Too calm.
I stood slowly, feet silent against the floor.
My pulse roared.
I reached the door.
Pressed my eye to the peephole.
My breath rushed out in a startled gasp.
On the other side of the door
—standing in the hallway like a shadow that followed me home—
was Nathan.
And he didn’t look calm anymore.
He looked terrified.
- Writer
