She doesn’t respond. Her gaze has drifted again, back to wherever her mind takes her these days.
And I place the plate of food on the bedside table, hoping that she’ll eat it later, but knowing she won’t.
***
As I step out of my mother’s room, I’m surprised to find both Sam and Naomi standing there. Sam’s arms are crossed, her usual scowl etched deep into her face. Naomi, on the other hand, gives me a sheepish “sorry” face.
“What?” I ask, feeling a bit defensive.
“There’s something you’re not telling me. So, start talking.” Her tone is clipped, demanding. I haven’t even done anything wrong, but she’s looking at me like she’s already decided I’m guilty of something.
I can’t help but roll my eyes.
I refuse to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “And what exactly do you think I’m hiding?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
Sam’s eyes flash toward Naomi, silently urging her to speak. Naomi just shrugs, biting her lip nervously.
“Tell me,” Sam says again, this time slower.
I sigh, already knowing I’ll eventually cave.
“Fine, but you can’t tell anyone,” I warn, pointing between them.
Sam’s eyebrows shoot up. “But Naomi knows?” she says dryly, gesturing toward her.
“That’s different,” I mutter, not bothering to explain why. She wasn’t even supposed to know.
With a huff, I lead them to my room. We sit on the very uncomfortable bed, specificallymyone. But that’s only because Naomi and Sam got the good beds with good quality covers.
I don’t even have covers.
But to be honest, I can’t bring myself to care. It’s not like I get much sleep nowadays.
“Alright,” I begin, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. My fingers hover over the screen as I glance at Sam. “Don’t freak out.”
Her lips twitch in annoyance. “I won’t.”
Doubtful.
I hand her the phone, but she doesn’t even wait for me to explain before snatching it from my hand. Naomi and I watch as her eyes scan the screen, her expression shifting from confused to shocked, then to furious.
Oh, here we go.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this,” Sam snaps, looking up. “When did it start?”
I hesitate at that, my throat tightening. “Well, I didn’t think much of it at first,” I admit. “It seemed harmless. Just random messages from unknown numbers. But then they started getting… specific.”
Naomi nods in agreement. “The person knew where we were, Sam. They mentioned specific places and events.”
“Like what?” Sam demands.
I swallow hard. “Like the alley Dad used to take us to after school.” My voice wavers as I continue. “I was there once, and… they knew. They mentioned it in a text.”
The room goes silent.
“So, they’ve been watching us,” Sam says, looking between us, her eyes widening. “For a while.”
I nod, my heart sinking further into my chest.
