"...Mom?"
The line went dead. I didn't lower the phone. I couldn't.
The silence that followed felt louder than the voice itself, louder than the traffic waking around us, louder than the blood pounding inside my ears, I stared at the dark screen waiting for it to light up again, waiting for another word, another breath, anything. Nothing came.
"Elena."
Adrian's voice sounded distant. I still didn't answer. That voice. Every part of me knew it. Not because I wanted to but because no matter how many years passed, no matter how many faces I forgot, no matter how many photographs faded, a daughter never forgot the sound of her mother's voice.
"It wasn't her."
I looked up sharply.
"You don't know that."
"I do."
"You can't."
His eyes stayed on mine.
"They're inside your head now, E
