Chapter 90: Start Talking
Chapter 90: Start Talking
They all tried to talk at once, stumbling over each other like kids caught sneaking out.Something wasn’t right. Not just about this moment, but the entire past week. Every encounter, every odd whisper or shadow in the corner of my vision... it had built up to this. I took a step forward, feeling that if I could just reach them, I’d get the answers I needed.
"What exactly were you doing just now?" I asked, voice low but firm. "Who are you really? Guards? Patrol? Who were you calling? Someone was just here I heard you."
None of them looked me in the eye. Their silence screamed guilt.
Finally, the tall woman with the scar slicing through her brow stepped forward. She chose her words carefully. "We are guards, yes... but we’re special guardians. We’re not allowed to say what we protect. Please don’t ask." Her voice dropped to something firm and unyielding. "And we weren’t calling anyone."
My eyes locked with hers, trying to see past the rehearsed expression.
Why did it feel like they were lying through their teeth?
"So you didn’t just call out to ’her’?" I asked, crossing my arms. "It was just my imagination then?" They all shook their heads. No.
"I’m imagining voices now?" Still, not a single word in response.
That sinking feeling deepened in my gut. I could feel it now this wasn’t just weird. This was wrong. And these four were in the thick of it.
Without a word, I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my phone. All their eyes immediately locked onto it, wide and tense. Like prey spotting a trap.
"What are you doing?" the redhead asked, his voice rising a little, green eyes flicking rapidly between my face and the glowing screen.
I shrugged, trying to look casual. "Just returning a missed call."
The number was still there in bold red. No caller ID. That call had come for me.
"I’m sure it’s nothing important," said the girl without the scar, flashing a too-wide, too-sweet smile. It was fake. I could smell the panic on her.
"Yes, nothing important at all," the scarred woman echoed, stepping forward, hands out like she was preparing to snatch the phone from my grip.
"Yeah, and besides," the blond guy jumped in, his voice scolding, "didn’t your parents teach you it’s rude to make a call in the middle of a conversation?"