A ringing phone woke Maya from her dream.
She reached for the phone beside her on the bed, but that wasn’t the one that was ringing. She sat up, blinking into darkness. The digital clock read 2:57 a.m. She was drenched in sweat. She took a deep breath as, elsewhere in the house, the ringing went on.
Why wasn’t her mom answering her phone?
Maya got out of bed, the dread of her nightmare still clinging to her skin. She walked slowly down the dark hall, stopping outside her mom’s closed door. The ringing wasn’t coming from in there.
She turned on the living room lights, nearly blinding herself. She turned them back off. The ringing was coming from the kitchen, and it wasn’t a sound she was used to—there was something different about this ring, but also familiar.
The old landline. A phone mounted to the wall behind the kitchen table—Maya had forgotten it was there and couldn’t remember the last time she’d used it. She was surprised it still worked. She stepped closer as it continued to ring.
A bad feeling crawled over her. Frank must have been the last person who’d ever called her on her mom’s landline. Who even had one of these anymore? She felt like she was still dreaming as she reached for the receiver and held it to her ear.
Silence.
She held her breath. She felt sure that it was him. He could have guessed that she’d seen the video—many thousands of people had. He could be calling her mom’s phone to see if Maya was back in town. To see if she was looking for him. She stood frozen as the thoughts flew through her head. Was that breath on the other end? It was hard to hear anything above her own pounding heart, her lungs begging for air.
She was about to hang up when the kitchen flooded with light.
“Maya?” said her mom.
Maya stared at her.
A click on the other end of the phone.
“Who are you talking to?” Brenda asked. She took in her daughter’s fearful expression and pale skin, her sweat-darkened shirt. The dial tone blaring from the phone in her hand. “Are you okay?”
“The phone was ringing. Didn’t you hear it?”
Her mom’s brow knit with worry.
“Whoever it was called like three times in a row. I answered it, but . . . there was no one there.”
Brenda shook her head. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Anger rose in Maya’s throat. “What—you think I hallucinated it?”
“No, no, of course not,” Brenda said, but it was obvious that she was just trying to de-escalate. She laid the back of her hand on her daughter’s forehead. “You’re a little warm. How are you feeling?”
Maya felt like screaming. She had the urge to tear the phone off the wall and smash it on the floor. Her mom didn’t believe her. Again.
“You must be losing your hearing,” Maya said coldly as she slammed the receiver back into its cradle.
She strode past her mom on her way to her room.
“Wait,” Brenda said. She followed her daughter a way down the hall. “I’m only trying to help, Muffin. You know that, right?”
Maya almost laughed at that. As if her mom could help her. If that was Frank on the phone, he knew where she was now. After all, why else would she be back in Pittsfield? Hadn’t she always wanted to escape?
“I don’t need your help,” she said to her mom as she closed the door in her face.