Chapter 34 Silas
SILAS
“Hamish! Why didn’t you answer?” I bark into the phone, driving like a mad man back to Boston, back to the brownstone. At least I got hold of Ophelia. She’s fine. Ethan is at the funeral. He doesn’t know she’s at the brownstone.
A text comes through from Nigella. I glance at the phone in its cradle on the dash and read it while passing a car.
Nigella: Got hold of Wells. They’re going to pick up Ethan.
“Hamish?” I say, realizing he hasn’t answered.
There’s a strange sound, a gurgling. And in the background, a thud.
“Hamish?” I press my foot to the accelerator. “What the fuck is going on?”
I barely get the sentence out when I hear Ophelia’s voice caught between a gasp and a scream before the line goes dead.
I race to the brownstone, but I’m at least twenty minutes out.
I dial 911 and tell them to get to the house, yelling at the operator when she asks questions that don’t matter.
When I’m sure they’re on their way, I begin to dial Ophelia and Hamish in turn, but my calls go to voicemail over and over again.
By the time I make it to the brownstone, I see the lights of police cars outside, and an officer stops me from entering the street.
“That’s my house. I called 911!”
He says something, but I don’t hear him. I put the SUV into park and open the door to run the rest of the way but my phone pings with a message. I stop because it’s from Ophelia.
Dread twists my gut. My hand trembles as I reach to swipe, to open the message.
And I read the single line of text.
Can she swim yet, bro?
Ethan. Ethan has her.
My heart pounds against my chest wall, blood deafening me. I push a hand into my hair, thinking what to do when three dots appear, indicating he’s typing.
We’ll finish this where it started.