WHO IS IN THE HOUSE.
I turned around so fast that my hair whipped across my face. My grip tightened around my phone, the cold metal pressing into my palm as I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. My heart was hammering against my ribs, an anxious, frantic rhythm that mirrored the chaos in my mind.
"I'm on my way," I said, my voice rushed, uneven. Without waiting for a response, I dropped the call, shoving my phone into my back pocket with trembling fingers.
"Ma’am?"
The receptionist’s voice jolted me slightly.
I turned toward her, suddenly remembering I wasn’t alone. She stood behind her desk, eyebrows raised, her lips slightly parted as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if she should.
I forced a quick, apologetic smile, though my insides were twisting with dread.
