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“Marco?” My voice is hurried. Desperate. I’ve locked myself in the bathroom of the cabin. A minute is all I have. All I have to save us both.
“Mia?” my brother asks. “Are you okay? I thought you were at the cabin.”
I run the shower water for background noise and clutch my cell to my ear. “I am,” I tell him, “but there’s a problem. Chris is in trouble.”
Marco doesn’t say anything, and for a terrifying moment I’m afraid I’ve lost the connection.
“Marco?”
“I’m here.” My brother’s voice is flat. So emotionless it’s almost eerie.
I want to tell him about the letter. Want to beg him to drive over to Chris’s house and see if he can get into that truck before Mr. Gomez does. If we’re lucky and if God answers my prayers, Chris’s dad will never find out what his son wrote.
It’s the only way I know to keep Chris safe.
“I have a favor to ask you,” I begin. Something’s wrong with Marco. I can tell by the way he’s talking to me, or rather by the way he’s not talking. But I can’t worry about that now. There’s no guessing what Mr. Gomez will do when he sees Chris’s letter. I can’t let that happen to him. Can’t let that happen to us.
“Now’s not a good time,” Marco says. My palms are so sweaty I’m afraid I’ll drop the phone and crack the screen.
“This is important,” I tell him. “Chris is in trouble.” When was the last time I asked Marco for anything? Doesn’t he realize how serious this is? I wasn’t joking when I told Chris his dad would kill him. I’m afraid for my boyfriend’s safety.
Mine too, if I were to be totally honest.
I hear a loud commotion on the other end of the line. “Where are you?” I ask. It’s too early for my brother to be at a bar or nightclub. What’s he doing?
“Don’t worry about me,” Marco says. His voice is so low I have to strain to hear him. “Listen, there’s something going on. Something I think you should know.”
Yes, there’s something going on. My boyfriend’s in danger. If Mr. Gomez reads that note before Marco can get to it first ...
“Is Chris with you?” Marco asks. His voice is so quiet he has to repeat the question a second time.
“He’s outside,” I answer, even though if I know Chris, he probably followed me into the cabin and is waiting right outside the bathroom door to talk to me. I turn the faucet to give the shower more water pressure, even though I’m not sure how well it covers up my side of the conversation. My brother and I are both whispering, both straining to hear each other speak.
“Mia, listen.” Something about Marco’s voice makes my heart catch in my throat. I feel dizzy and wonder if I still have a pulse. “Is Mom there?”
“What? No. She went to get some groceries. She’ll probably be back in half an hour.”
“That’s not enough time. You and Chris need to get out of there now.”
He’s talking like a crazy man. Crazy and paranoid and doing everything except driving over to Chris’s house to see if that letter is still in his dad’s truck.
“We can’t go anywhere. All our friends will be here soon.”
“You aren’t listening,” Marco snaps, daring to raise his voice. “Chris is in danger.”
It’s the same thing I was trying to tell my brother all along, except I’ve got the horrible feeling we’re not talking about the same danger at all.
“Mia?” There’s a gentle knocking on the bathroom door. It’s Chris. “Mia, are you okay? Can you come out here and let me know you’re okay?”
“What are you talking about?” I hiss into the phone.
“He’ll probably kill me if I tell you this,” Marco begins. I hate the fact that I don’t have to ask him who he’s talking about.
I sink to the bathroom floor, still hanging onto the phone with my sweaty hand and whisper to my brother, “I’m listening.”