30. Axel
Axel
I t was close to midnight when my phone buzzed.
Lark was asleep, curled up in my bed, tangled in the blanket like a human burrito. I didn’t want to wake her, so I slipped into the living room, the floor creaking under my feet as I checked the message.
Unknown Number:
Tell Fraiser he was right. They have Greg Bishop.
And be careful.
—M
No punctuation. No context. But the initials hit me like a shot to the ribs.
Marley.
My first instinct was to text back. My second was to wake Lark. I did neither.
Instead, I stared at the message and felt the shift in the air—like pressure dropping before a storm.
I didn’t know what Fraiser had been right about. And I didn’t know what Marley meant by be careful .
But I had a sinking feeling this wasn’t over.
Whatever she was mixed up in... it had just brushed against our lives.
And it wasn’t done with us yet. I needed to get in touch with Fraiser. I wondered if he was back from Nebraska yet.