I didn’t even realize I was still holding the phone until it slipped a little in my hand. He noticed. Of course he did. He notices everything. That’s his thing. Same routine, same timing… nothing ever out of place. Except this.
“I changed my mind,” I said, trying to keep my voice normal, like my heart wasn’t about to break through my ribs. He just stood there, still in the doorway, like he was blocking the only exit without actually moving.
The woman on the phone was still there. Quiet now. Listening.
His eyes dropped to the screen, then back to me. No anger, no panic. That’s what scared me the most. Just calculation.
“You shouldn’t have called that number,” he said.
Not “what is that,” not “who is it.” He knew.
I took a step back without thinking. He stepped in, just one, but it was enough. The plastic roll hit the floor with a dull thud.
“Claire,” he said, softer now, almost tired, “this was supposed to be simple.”
Behind me, the woman finally spoke again, barely a whisper through the speaker: “He’s there, isn’t he?”
Neither of us answered.
But we both knew she was right.
