AMELIA
When I rose on the plush Queen-sized bed with an unduly accommodating mattress, Jake had left the house to go for a run. I feigned sleep to make him think I was resting, but there's no rest in the viper's den.
The room was dim, and through the windows, I could see the night sky. I must have pretended to sleep for a long while, but making eye contact with Jake felt impossible, and speaking to him seemed like he could hear the deceit within me.
My phone, plugged in to charge, was on the nightstand. I sat up, grabbed it, and checked my inbox.
Carl's message one: This is getting out of hand.
Carl's message two: Why are you not answering me?
Carl's message three: Wait, why did I not hand you over to him myself? If that guy is a ritualist and dares to hurt you.
That one manages to
