Marco’s POV
“Who is this?” I asked, but no response came from the other side. I pressed the phone closer to my ear, my eyes narrowing as I glanced at the screen.
“Marco…” the voice said. My eyes widened. Ellen?
It sounded almost like her—if not her exactly.
Before I could speak again, the call cut off.
“Wait!” I exclaimed, quickly redialing the number, desperate to reconnect. But it didn’t go through. She wasn’t picking up.
I tried again, and again, but when the line stayed dead, I moved to dial Ruben’s number instead. My finger hovered over the screen… then froze.
After leaving him shouting my name—demanding to know where Ariana was—my guilty conscience refused to let me press call.
I sighed and scrolled to Dan’s number, my thumb lingering over it as fragments of memory replayed i
