ELENA
The phone rang at 6:23 a.m.
At first, I didn’t register the sound. I was curled under the covers, still caught in that foggy place between dream and waking, where everything is quiet and soft and nothing bad has happened yet.
But the ring didn’t stop. It cut through the peace with sharp, repetitive urgency.
I rolled over and reached blindly for my phone, already knowing who it would be.
Derek.
My heart kicked once—hard. Aiden.
I sat up in bed, wide awake now, the sheets tangled around my legs. The sun hadn’t fully risen. A ribbon of early light filtered through the curtains, soft and harmless. But dread bloomed in my chest like a bruise.
Why would Derek be calling me this early unless something had gone wrong?
“Hello?” I answered, sitting up straight, covers falling around m
