My throat closed.
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You let Mom bury you.”
“I know.”
“Where are you?”
A pause.
Then his voice changed.
“They know the coffin was empty.”
The agent stepped closer to the handset.
“How?” she asked.
“I don’t know yet.
But somebody moved earlier than expected.
The house is compromised.”
I thought of the message.
Come home alone.
“Dad, was someone waiting there?”
Another breath.
“That was the point.”
The line crackled.
The agent asked him for his status.
He ignored the question.
“Open the lower compartment,” he said.
“Everything you need is there.
Do not let Julian leave with his personal phone.”
I almost laughed from disbelief.
“You disappear for three days and now you’re worried about my phone?”
“I’m worried about every object they can use to find you.”
“Who are they?”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
“No.
I’ve been following instructions since you supposedly died.
Tell me now.”
Silence.
Then my father said, “They are people who survived because everyone around them believed fear was safer than evidence.”
The connection dropped.
I shouted his name into the handset.
Nothing came back.
The agent was already opening the lower section of the cabinet.
Inside was a sealed evidence case and another phone.
This one began ringing almost immediately.
My mother’s number appeared.
I looked at the agent.
She nodded once.
“Answer.
Speaker on.
Say as little as possible.”
I accepted the call.
“Mom?”
For two seconds there was only silence.
Then a man’s voice said, “Your mother needs you at the house.”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
“Put her on.”
“She’s upset.”
“Put her on.”
The caller disconnected.
