His words keep repeating while I do my hair and brush my teeth and debate between the pale blue V-neck or the coral wrap-around shirt.
I keep turning them over in my head as I measure out the ingredients for the cookies.
Veryglad.
Could something good come out of this?
Could this thing between me and Indy develop into more than friendship?
If it does, how would my parents react? Would they refuse to accept Indy, knowing what he did? Or would they be thankful that he put his own neck on the line to help me?
I wish I could call Fiona and Aidy to ask for advice. But we—me and the team—agreed it was safer to leave them in the dark for now. Which sucks, and I feel bad making them worry, but?—
“You’re going to be sorry.”
The gravely voice seems to come out of nowhere.
I spin around, searching for its source. But the apartment is still empty, except for me.
Heart pounding, I scan the apartment more carefully the second time. But there’s no one else here.
And why would Indy or one of his friends come in without telling me?
How could they, when I’m in the kitchen, with a clear view of the front door?
“You shouldn’t have run.”
The voice comes again from seemingly nowhere.
My lungs seize with fear.
Is someone hiding in here?
Indy said the place was secure. That no one could get in.
But what if?—
“Turn yourself in. Now.”
The whisk I’m holding falls to the floor with a dull clatter.
“NOW,”the voice orders, rising close to a shout.“NOW!”
Tremors race through my body. My breath comes in rapid, uneven gasps.
Fractured questions attack me.
Who? Where? How?
“NOW!”the voice bellows. Then it dips to a sinister snarl.“Do it. Or your parents will die.”
“Who are you?” I croak. “Why?—”
An explosive blast tears through my head.
It’s deafening. Painful. Terrifying.
A scream rips from my throat.
