Amelia
I slam the apartment door shut.
I'm still shaking. I can barely hold my keys. They keep slipping from my sweaty hands, and they won't stop jingling. It's like my head is filled with cotton candy. I can't quite believe that I'm alive, that I managed to convince Damien Keller that I'm not a spy.
I fish my phone out of my bag and throw my bag across the room. With trembling fingers, I dial Devon's number. I pray to God that he answers this time because if he doesn't, I'll have a panic attack. The phone rings and rings. Every ring feels like it's an hour long.
He answers on the last ring. "Amelia, listen. I can't really talk right now—"
"He found out," I interrupt.
Devon has been quiet for a long time. We're both breathing heavily on each end of the line. He says, "Keller foun
