Polls show Grant Marsden is truly America’s new golden boy. He has the second-highest favorability rating of any American, after the grand commander.
—American Gazette
Finally Grant had some time to devote to his work. He was making progress on the knife and thought he was about ready to order some animals for testing. He feared the liquid would only inject the victim if the knife hit bone, though. The vibration of a cell phone sounded through the room. He dropped the blade. Grant was sure it was Rex checking in; hopefully it would be some good news. Still, he was annoyed with the distraction and walked over to the table.
His annoyance vanished when he saw his screen wasn’t lit up, and instead the small black phone was vibrating. It was the first time it had rung since Grant had had it in his possession, and he had a feeling it was the call he was waiting for. He looked at the phone number and realized it wasn’t an international line. His annoyance returned and he let the call hit voice mail.
Grant started to walk back to his work when the phone vibrated again. Someone had left a message. He decided it was best to get assurance. He flipped the phone back open and hit the “listen” button.
“Hi.”
Grant was so giddy he almost dropped his favorite new toy.
“I know you won’t get this, but I miss you so much. I’m safe, all three of us are. I keep thinking there is something I should have done, but I can’t remember what happened. I know I let you down though. I promise—”
Disgusted, Grant cut off the message. He didn’t need to hear any more. If the boy was calling from an American number in a foreign country that meant he was on a cell phone. Grant typed out a message to the phone number.
You didn’t let me down.
He hit “send” and waited for the bait to get grabbed up. To his surprise the phone started ringing again. Grant declined the call and wrote another text message.
I can’t speak right now. Don’t tell Amelia or Andrew.
The message went through. A response came fast.
You’re alive? I’m so sorry we left you. Can you come meet us?
Can’t talk. Call me tomorrow. One p.m.
Okay. I love you, Dad.
Grant brimmed with repulsion over those three simple words. He felt dirty typing them but needed to send the message home.
I love you.
No response came. He put the black phone down and picked up his personal cell to make a quick phone call. The line rang three times.
“Dr. Schaffer,” Grant said, “do you think it’s time we woke up our patient?”
At last the wheels of Grant’s plan were in motion. He could have everything again. The grand commander position, a doting wife, and the girl who had betrayed him.