"My question is who you are and why you have access to this phone."
The voice is cold.
Anger rises in me.
"Did what he did have anything to do with you? Some shady business?"
"And what did Bay do?" The question is asked calmly.
Emotions overwhelm reason, and I snap into the receiver,
"I’m holding his head on my knees right now! Bay tried to kill himself!"
"What is his condition?" the stranger asks evenly.
"Bad. I’m praying he’ll survive, his pulse is barely there, the ambulance is already on its way. Why did he do it? I don’t understand!"
There’s silence, then the voice replies,
"Whatever his reason was, it wasn’t connected to me. My condolences; I hope Bay pulls through."
The call ends.
What the hell?
I clench my fists, staring at the screen glowing faintly.
Who is this man? What did he want?
What kind of strange phone is this?
Is Bay in trouble?
Is that stranger involved?
Something doesn’t add up. I stare at my son, then at the screen, but I have to rely on my intuition telling me that what the stranger said was the truth.
So I slip the phone into Bay’s pocket and look at the other phone again.
The message to Alex is still open: a row of hearts and eggplants.
I stare. I almost press the call button, fury rising within me. But I stop myself. I switch off the screen and tuck the phone back into Bay’s pocket.
That’s when I hear Aiden’s steps. He’s carrying Bay’s backpack and a blanket. He covers our son and then wraps his arms around me, kissing my temple.
"Good Fate, what happened here, Lake? Why? Our son…"
"I don’t know, I don’t know! Someone called and then hung up, something strange is happening."
"Who?"
"Some stranger, no idea."
Pale as death itself, Aiden adjusts the blanket over Bay because his body is so cold.
"Are they coming? The ambulance?"
"Yes, they’re already on their way; they’ll be here in a moment. I’ll carry him outside…"
