My hip struck the coffee table, and a small black shape slid off the glass and landed near my hand.
My phone.
For a second, the whole room held still around it.
Aaron saw it too.
His grin widened, ugly and confident.
“Call someone,” he said. “Let’s see who believes you this time.”
That was the cruelest part of him.
He did not think I had no way out because the doors were locked.
He thought I had no way out because every adult in my life had helped him build the wall.
My fingers closed around the phone anyway.
I could barely focus on the screen.
My hand was shaking so hard that the numbers looked like they were floating.
9.
1.
1.
The call connected.
