Mirabelle's POV.
I stared at the phone in my hand, my heart hammering against my ribcage. The number on the screen wasn't saved, but I recognized it; it was the private investigator I had hired after my conversation with Grandpa Ed.
For some weird reason, I was scared to pick up the call. It has been twenty-four hours since I got his number and explained the situation to him, and he told me that the next time he called me, he would have an answer. That time was now, and I was scared as f**k.
I really shouldn't be scared because this information was important to me; it would help me know the people around me because I just had that feeling that somebody close to me was behind the whole rumor that had been going on about me.
The wine I took from earlier churned uncomfortably in my tum
