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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 : 𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

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It didn't fully dawn on me that something was missing.

That I hadn't realized it wasn't where it should've been.

My mother's phone wasn't with the belongings the hospital had given me back, nor was it in her room where I could see it. My mind was racing as I took off up the steps, how could I have not thought of that before? How could I overlook something as important as this?

Honestly, I should've given myself some slack, mostly because I did experience something traumatic and have my whole life uprooted. Not even just uprooted. Torn to shreds, eviscerated from the inside out, had everything I ever known become twisted with lies and sunken secrets deep within my family. 

I had my insides torn out from my naive mouth. 

I didn't want to go back inside her bedroom, wanting to keep the door shut but I knew, somewhere in there, there was an answer to my problems. Whoever she called that night, or whoever called her, knew what happened. They knew why she did this, and I prayed it wasn't my doing. I didn't want to be the one at fault, I didn't want her death to be on my hands. How the realization of what I inherited became such a strong burden she decided to run from it the only way she knew how.

Oh, mama, did you cry because of me? Did you realize I was just like him?

I felt good when I got on my knees near her bed once I entered the stale room. I felt even better when I reached under and found the phone. It must have fallen under here during her thrashing or maybe, just maybe, she put it there for me to find later. 

I liked the idea of her leaving a little secret behind for me, a bread crumb. 

The phone was standard issue, no password, thank god. I went to messages, surprised to only see three. One was mine, another a coworker, and the third was Cage. I wasn't surprised she had kept her old messages with him after he died, it was sweet. I clicked the chat and scrolled through their last messages, wondering if she used to do the same, when she missed him most.

Dated the night of the accident.

Louise: dinner's ready.

Cage: just getting ready to leave the office. blaire not still angry?

Louise: livid.

Cage: i'll pick up ice cream. favorite flavor?

Louise: cookie dough, cookies n cream. get both.

Cage: on it. love you

The text below his last message came the next day.

Louise: I love you.

I clicked away, feel as if I were invading her personal space even though there was no space between us. Only open air created by me, there was no her. Yet, looking at her texts, there was one that that didn't sit well. She only had three chats, so she must've deleted the rest, right? What person would only have three active chats?

I clicked away, going to calls.

There was only one number I wanted to call and it was at the top of her call log.

Unknown Caller. 

There was a number, thankfully, but it sent a strange little feeling down my chest that she had this person under Unknown. It was an actual contact in her phone, like she had planned for me to come here and snoop. Like she didn't want me to know what she did, protecting me even from the grave.

I stood from my crouch, sitting on the edge of the bed. I fiddled with the cross around my neck before I pressed the most recent caller. I brought the phone to my ear and heard the ring, what was I going to do if the person answered? What would I do? What would I say?

I didn't think they'd answer but they did on the third ring. Just like clockwork, my brain went fuzzy and my mouth went dry because holy shit, good fucking god, what do I say?

The voice on the other end answered while laughing. Deep laughter that sounded like it came from the back of their throat, amused that they had to answer their phone this morning. I detected it was a man, and not one I had ever heard before so that crossed Macabre from my nonexistent list of suspects. "Seeing how I know the owner of this phone is...no longer with us, I could only assume this might be the lovely Blaire?"

I couldn't speak, much less even open my mouth to exert some type of noise. But the man didn't falter for a second before adding a smug, "What? Cat got your tongue?"

I closed my eyes and counted to ten in my head before I spoke. I needed to be calm, I needed a quick retort, anything to throw him off his game. Show him you aren't afraid because you're not. 

"Funny, I don't think her death has been made public yet," I said into the phone and when he didn't respond, I added, "So, tell me Mr. Know-it-all, how do you know what happened to her?"

If I could hear a smile, I sure as hell heard his, loud and clear. "So, when's the funeral?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I don't think I have to, it seems like you already know the answer," he responded coolly. It was hard to picture what this unknown man looked like in my head, my brain fighting to put a face to the voice.

His voice was deep, so he most likely wasn't younger than me. He was an adult, he sounded like one, at least five maybe seven years older than me. I pictured him in my head as someone handsome, brown hair, maybe black, hazel eyes-I shook my head because I knew who I was picturing. It was the only person that came to mind when I thought of someone even remotely gorgeous.

The man in the photographs on Cage's computer. The one who looked almost godly.

He chuckled on the other end. "Don't tell me you hung up on me, did you?"

"No," I snapped back, eyes flickering to the clock on the nightstand. I had fifty minutes until I needed to get to school so I relaxed for a moment, crossing one leg over the other and running my free hand over my mother's cold comforter. Did she used to call Cage like this in the morning when he was off to work? Did she play with her hair and think of the man she loved? "Just trying to figure out why my mom would've called someone like you the night before she..."

"She died?" he offered.

"Yes, before she died," I said flatly.

After a small beat of silence he said, "Are you sad?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you're heartbroken, I would be."

"Why? Have both of your parents died?" I asked, suddenly finding myself wanting to get to know this stranger on the other line. Were we the same? Did he go through a similar experience? Was he as broken as I was now?

"Long time ago."

"Do you remember it? Do you remember what happened to them?"

He sighed and murmured, "Of course I do, I remember all of it. It'll get better, the truth will come out sooner or later."

"So you know what happened to her?" I asked, keeping my eyes settled on the empty bathroom before me. White tiles. White walls. "You're the one she called, after all."

"What do you know so far? Can't be giving away all of the tricks up my sleeves too early," he said with a laugh. Maybe he was sitting in his office or in his kitchen or, hell, maybe he was laying in bed smiling to himself because he knew something I didn't. He had the upper hand and it seemed to me that he loved every second of it all.

He was a bad guy, I knew that. He knew more than me, he probably knew more than my mother. I curled my fingers against the comforter as I spoke, "She said that she knew what needed to be done, that Cage was right about everything. She said there was no time left, and she...needed to do it? But do what? Kill herself? Because of what?"

"I have no place in your family secrets," he said in response. "But it seems like Cage and your mother had planned this, it goes farther back than you."

"And how would you know?"

"Oh," he cooed, his deep voice light. "Wouldn't you like to know."

I frowned. "I do, tell me. I have every right, my mom is dead and you know more than you're letting on to, so tell me."

Let the big bad wolf coddle you, let him whisper into your ears, Red.

"I've known your parents for quite some time," he explained and from the other end, I heard a chair squeak across the floor and the shuffle of papers. "She called me that night, talking about plans and what she needed to do."

"And she needed to do what exactly?"

"You know what."

I closed my mouth, pressing my lips together as I jostled my leg in irritation. Of course I knew, it was hard not to see the picture that was being painted right before my very eyes. She did this on purpose, this was her plan the whole time. Her and Cage, they did this to themselves, they welcomed death like an old friend. "Keep going."

"She told me about your little problem," he told me, his voice lowered to a near whisper, like someone was listening in on him and our conversation. It felt as if he was right next to me, lips curling near my ear, his breath hot against my neck, his closeness tickling my skin. "About what you saw."

I gritted my teeth together, my grip on the phone and the comforter tightening. "And what do you know about that?"

"That you can see them, just like Cage."

"Who the hell even are you?" I snapped, jumping to my feet like I was confronting the unknown man in front of me.

He chuckled, the sound making an unexpected heat rush up my neck and cheeks. "For now, just call me a friend."

I didn't get another word in before he hung up and I was left speechless. I didn't need this, I didn't need a stranger intervening. There was a chance he could be one of the many men working in the church, for all I knew he could've been a Morticianer who was weaseling his way into my plans.

Angry tears welled up in my eyes and I cursed myself for getting so upset as I left the bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I kept hold of my mother's phone, slipping it inside one of the pockets of my backpack as I got ready for school. I dressed quickly and left my room and the house without another word or thought, unlocking my car as I bounded down the front steps.

I wasn't surprised that it was raining, since it always seemed to rain here. Day in and day out, it was always raining.

I got inside my car, starting it and feeling the warm air push out of my vents, warming my cold fingers. There were spots of dried blood in the passenger seat and I tried hard not to remember what actually happened last night. How the blood was warm when I was submerged, when I was dragged under like a fish caught on a rusty hook. I didn't want to think about what could've happened to me if I hadn't clawed my way to surface when I did.

I backed out of my driveway, thoughts swirling inside my head. It was easy to get lost in my thoughts as I drove, mind going to the mysterious man who answered my mother's phone. His voice wasn't familiar and he seemed pretty adamant that he was a friend of my parents, or so he said. For all I knew, he could've easily been lying to rile me up.

And I hated to say that it worked.

I was riled up and wanting more.

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split up this chapt w the next bc it was a lot longer and didnt want this to get all rambley

who do y'all think the unknown caller is going to end up being ??? let me know what your guesses are so far in the comments !!

bc....ill give u a hint....its a sexy person

comment/vote or you'll never find out