Chapter 2: The Number
“Emily!””
Dad's fist slammed into my bedroom door.
I jumped.
The old phone nearly slipped from my hand.
“Stay quiet,” the man said.
“Who are you?””
“Just listen to me.””
Another удар shook the door.
“Emily, open this door!””
I stared at the wood.
“Dad, leave me alone.””
“Open it.””
“I need to study.””
There was a pause.
Then Dad laughed.
It wasn't his normal laugh.
“Study?””
His voice was dangerously calm.
“After everything that just happened, you're worried about studying?””
I stepped backward.
The man on the phone whispered, “Don't argue with him.””
Dad struck the door again.
“Who are you talking to?””
I said nothing.
“Emily.””
My name sounded different when he said it.
Like a warning.
The man asked, “Is there another exit?””
“Window.””
“Can you get outside?””
“It's two stories.””
“Don't try it unless you have to.””
Dad grabbed the doorknob.
It rattled.
“Open the door.””
I pressed my back against the wall.
“Please go away.””
“Emily, I'm not asking again.””
Then Mom's voice came from downstairs.
“Ethan, leave her alone!””
Dad shouted back.
“You stay out of this!””
“She didn't do anything!””
“She called someone!””
My heart stopped.
The man on the phone went silent.
Dad hit the door again.
“How does she have a phone?””
I looked down at the old device.
Mom had known this could happen.
She had prepared for it.
But why?
The man finally spoke.
“Emily, I need you to tell me something.””
“What?””
“Did your father ever mention the name Michael?””
I frowned.
“No.””
“Did your mother?””
“No.””
“Are you sure?””
“Yes.””
“Good.””
“Why?””
Before he could answer, Dad shouted through the door.
“Sarah!””
Mom didn't respond.
“Sarah, get up here.””
I heard her footsteps.
Slow.
Uneven.
She came up the stairs.
“Ethan, please.””
“Where did you put it?””
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
“Don't lie to me.””
I pressed the phone closer to my ear.
The man whispered, “Emily, your mother is going to deny everything.””
“What?””
“Don't interrupt her. Listen.””
Mom reached the hallway.
I could hear her breathing through the door.
“Ethan,” she said softly, “please don't do this in front of her.””
Dad's voice dropped.
“You told her?””
“No.””
“You swear?””
“Yes.””
“Then why is she talking to someone?””
Mom didn't answer.
The man on my phone said, “Now.””
I didn't understand.
“Now what?””
“Ask your mother if she knows who I am.””
I hesitated.
Then I spoke through the door.
“Mom?””
Silence.
Dad turned toward my room.
“What?””
I raised my voice.
“Mom, do you know who I'm talking to?””
Mom gasped.
Dad became completely still.
For the first time since I'd locked myself inside, the pounding stopped.
The man whispered, “Good.””
Dad said, “Emily, give me the phone.””
“No.””
“Give it to me.””
“No!””
Mom began crying.
“Emily, don't.””
I looked at the phone.
“Mom, who is he?””
She didn't answer.
“Mom?””
Her breathing broke.
Then she whispered something so softly I almost missed it.
“Don't trust anyone.””
Dad grabbed her.
I heard her cry out.
The man said, “Emily, listen to me. Your father is going to try to convince you that I'm dangerous.””
Dad shouted, “Put the phone down!””
The door shook violently.
I ran to my desk and pushed the chair underneath the handle.
Dad slammed into it.
The chair jumped.
“Emily!””
“Go away!””
“Open the door!””
“Leave me alone!””
The man spoke quickly.
“There's a police station twelve minutes from your house.””
“I don't know where.””
“Take the back stairs if you have to.””
“I can't leave my mom.””
“You can't help her if he gets through that door.””
I started crying.
“What am I supposed to do?””
“Stay alive.””
Dad hit the door again.
The wood cracked.
I looked toward the window.
Outside, our street was empty.
Normal.
Cars parked along the curb.
A dog barking somewhere.
A neighbor watering flowers.
Nobody knew what was happening inside our house.
Then the phone vibrated.
A message appeared beneath the call.
*UNKNOWN: DON'T GO TO THE POLICE.*
I stared at it.
“Did you send that?””
“No.””
My stomach dropped.
Another message appeared.
*UNKNOWN: HE KNOWS ABOUT THE PHONE.*
I whispered, “Someone else is texting me.””
The man went silent.
Then he said, “Emily, what exactly does the message say?””
I read it aloud.
He inhaled sharply.
“Turn off the phone.””
“Why?””
“Now.””
I pressed the power button.
The screen went black.
Dad stopped hitting the door.
I heard him breathing on the other side.
Then he said, very quietly:
“Emily?””
I didn't answer.
“I know about the phone.””
Mom started crying.
“Ethan, please.””
Dad's voice became almost gentle.
“Open the door, sweetheart.””
I felt colder than I had all night.
Because he hadn't called me sweetheart in years.
The man whispered, “Do not open that door.””
Then Dad said something that made me forget how to breathe.
“Your mother has been lying to you your whole life.””
I looked toward the phone.
The screen was dark.
But the man's voice was still in my ear.
“Emily,” he said, “there's something you need to know before your father reaches you.””
“What?””
He hesitated.
May you like
Then:
“Your mother isn't Sarah.””
