My spine locked.
The tone was all wrong. That wasn’t Harper.
I typed back:
[Should I wear the white dress or the pink pants for this escape ?]
Silence. Half a minute. Maybe more.
Then a reply, fast and furious:
[Who cares ?! Just get outside, NOW!]
I didn’t hesitate.
[No outfit, no rescue. I'm staying right here. So pick one. Pastel or classic ?]
The reply came in fast.
[You never packed a white dress or pink pants. Stop it, Cece. This isn’t funny.]
I smiled. Gotcha.
I walked to the closet, grabbed both pieces, took a photo, and hit send. Then I switched the phone to silent and dropped it on the nightstand.
Let the messages come. I didn’t read a single one.
My heartbeat finally slowed.
I’d believed it at first. The fear. The urgency. I almost
