I Couldn’t Remember Hearing Anyone Come Back Upstairs

it.

You’re not at Melissa’s house.

I frowned.

Before I could answer, another message appeared.

The address your phone is showing belongs to a forty-eight-year-old man. Natalie… get out. Right now.

For several seconds, I simply stared at the screen.

It made no sense.

Of course I was at Melissa’s house.

I’d been there since after school.

We’d complained about continue reading …