She steps forward threateningly. “Liar!”
“You said it yourself. You never told anyone about your medication or the errands you had to run.Youwrote the notes.”
She goes very still, eyes fixated on me.
“Your system’s been poisoned for weeks now,” I tell her gently. “Carbon-monoxide poisoning causes extreme confusion.” I step forward. “You wrote the notes. You just don’t remember doing it.”
“Amanda…”
I shrug helplessly. “Maybe Amanda succumbed too. You said she was finding notes. She was being poisoned, just like you.”
“Then where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Her mind would’ve been cloudy.” I frown at the chimney, thinking. “She could be anywhere.”
I don’t want to stand in this poisonous room talking. I want to get the hell out of here. Now. Sarah’s been in here for hours with the attic shut, breathing the toxic air, and look what it’s done to her.
“The house,” I tell her. “This house has been shut up for forty years. There are no windows, no ventilation. There’s nowhere for the carbon monoxide to go. It’s built up for years and years.” I shudder. “No wonder your cat got sick.”
Her head snaps back in my direction. I have her attention now.
“I think the chimney’s the source of the leak.” I swallow hard, pointing. “Maybe it’s blocked or something. That would explain why there are stains in here but nowhere downstairs.” I tug at her sleeve. “Lovie, the house has been leaking carbon monoxide for God knows how long. We have to get out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sarah—”
She steps forward threateningly. “Don’t call me that!”
My heart plummets. How the hell am I going to handle this? I can’t call Gabe; he’s seven hours away. And my phone…dammit. Think, think.
Tim. Sarah knows Tim. She trusts him, I think. I bite my lip. “Do you have your phone on you, lovie?” Her eyes flick back and forth like she thinks I’m trying to trick her.
“We can call Tim, okay?” I say softly. “If someone’s coming for you…” I feel terrible about playing into her delusions. But if Tim can help me get Sarah out of here, it will be worth it. “Tim can help us.
“Lovie…” I glance over my shoulder, pretending to listen. Pretending to be frightened. “Let’s call Tim, okay?” I whisper urgently. “We’ll need him on our side when they come for us.”
She mumbles under her breath, but her eyes are eager. She looks behind her to the cradle, mumbles something louder that I can’t quite catch. Then she snatches up her phone and gives me a distrusting look.
“I’llcall him,” she announces, and I nearly gasp in relief.
I chew my lip anxiously as she types the passcode in twice. I’m thinking only of my kids and Gabe. God, after this mess is over, I’m going to call them. I really need to hear their voices. Hell, I might even drive up to their grandad’s and surprise them there! Yes, I think gratefully. I’m going to see my family when I get the hell out of here.
She’s calling Tim. The sound of ringing echoes through the attic. Please, Tim. Pick up. Please.
“Hi! This is Tim’s voicemail!” My heart plummets.
Wordlessly, Sarah hangs up and rings him again. Her eyes never leave mine. Goosebumps shoot up my arms. Just how dangerous is she? The silence is growing more hostile. With each ring, she becomes more agitated.
Pick up, Tim. Please, God, pick up.
“Hi! This is Tim’s—”
No. No. No. Tears spring into my eyes. I want to collapse on the floor and break down sobbing. Sarah’s gaze is terrifying. I don’t see Sarah, Lizzy—whoever she was. My friend. I see someone whose system has been poisoned for months. Someone whose mind and reasoning have unraveled. Someone dangerous.
My pulse throbs so hard I wonder if she can hear it. Sarah presses the redial button. We wait.Ring. Ring.
“Know what I think?” Sarah mutters, brushing away a sweaty strand of hair angrily.
