Dylan to talk about it. About
anything, really. And to be fair, she still hasn’t heard Dylan’s side of things.
So reaching out to him wouldn’t be pathetic… right? It’d be the mature thing to
do.
She huffs a sharp breath and pulls
up his number.
She stares at it, expecting to
come to her senses. But for the first time in a long while, her mind and heart don’t
seem to be at odds. So she swallows the tension in her throat, licks her lips, breathes
in the courage she desperately needs, and calls him.
It rings, and rings, and rings,
and rings, and, “Hey, you’ve reached—”
She hangs up.
σ
Neve wipes
the bathroom mirror with her towel, and steps out of the steamy cocoon wearing
a white tank top and black and white striped pajama shorts. She grabs her phone off the bed and checks it, saddened to
not have a single text, notification, or missed call.
Well, I did call him at the crack of dawn …
She drops her phone back down and walks
over to her mini-fridge. Minus a few condiments, it’s more or less empty. With finals
and the exhibition keeping her occupied, she’s been surviving on frozen dinners
and instant noodles.
Mulling over her limited options, a
faint dial-tone reaches her ears.
Neve looks towards her phone and
sees that the screen is lit up. She walks over and grabs it, realizing it’s making
an outgoing call to Elliot.
Thinking she dialed him by
mistake, she taps and ends the call. And then her eyes widen at the sight of a
string of outgoing calls—all to Elliot—and all of which were made while Neve
was in the shower.
She stares with knitted brows.
Software bug ?
Without being prompted, her phone
begins to dial Elliot again. This time, Neve finds herself starting at it, not
wanting to end the call.
She might have always been a bit
of a malfunction magnet, but this feels different. Darker. The kind of feeling
you get when you’re watching a horror movie all by yourself.
An incoming call makes her jump
out of her skin.
It’s from a blocked number.
With zero guesses as to whom it
could be, Neve clears her throat and receives the call. “Hello?”
“Is this Miss Knightly?” an
unfamiliar voice asks.
σ
Neve’s
damp locks lash against her skin as she bursts into the hospital’s emergency
ward. And right before a fresh onslaught of
panic cripples her, she notices a young girl behind a small reception desk.
There is a ‘VOLUNTEER’ tag clipped
to her shirt.
“Can I help you with something?” she
chirps with an excessively chipper voice.
Neve goes to speak, but a police
officer at the end of the hall beckons her attention.
Is he the one who called her?
Neve swallows the tension in her
throat, and with gravity clawing at her feet, sets out in his direction.
Her steps become smaller and
smaller, and then she is just standing still, waiting for him to meet her
halfway.
“Miss Knightly?” he approaches.
“How is he?” Neve asks with a
whisper-soft voice.
“Can I see your ID, please?”
“Oh. Yes.” With her eyes
struggling to focus, Neve rummages through her bag until she finds her wallet.
She pulls out her driver’s licence and hands it to him. “I’m not family,” she says as the officer checks her ID. “His
family lives in Toronto.”
“We’re in the process of getting a
hold of them as well. We called you because you’re listed as his local
emergency contact.”
Neve nods, barely registering his
words. “So, what happened?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t been updated
on his status. But the doctor should be out soon.”
“Okay, but what happened ? You
said you would explain once I got here.”
“Well—” he drops his gaze and rubs
his stubble. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but so far it looks like attempted
suicide.”
Suicide .
She’s underwater. She can no
longer hear a word he’s saying. The world is fading to black, and all she sees
is Elliot dangling from a rope in his dorm room. Or lying in a pool of his own
blood with
anything, really. And to be fair, she still hasn’t heard Dylan’s side of things.
So reaching out to him wouldn’t be pathetic… right? It’d be the mature thing to
do.
She huffs a sharp breath and pulls
up his number.
She stares at it, expecting to
come to her senses. But for the first time in a long while, her mind and heart don’t
seem to be at odds. So she swallows the tension in her throat, licks her lips, breathes
in the courage she desperately needs, and calls him.
It rings, and rings, and rings,
and rings, and, “Hey, you’ve reached—”
She hangs up.
σ
Neve wipes
the bathroom mirror with her towel, and steps out of the steamy cocoon wearing
a white tank top and black and white striped pajama shorts. She grabs her phone off the bed and checks it, saddened to
not have a single text, notification, or missed call.
Well, I did call him at the crack of dawn …
She drops her phone back down and walks
over to her mini-fridge. Minus a few condiments, it’s more or less empty. With finals
and the exhibition keeping her occupied, she’s been surviving on frozen dinners
and instant noodles.
Mulling over her limited options, a
faint dial-tone reaches her ears.
Neve looks towards her phone and
sees that the screen is lit up. She walks over and grabs it, realizing it’s making
an outgoing call to Elliot.
Thinking she dialed him by
mistake, she taps and ends the call. And then her eyes widen at the sight of a
string of outgoing calls—all to Elliot—and all of which were made while Neve
was in the shower.
She stares with knitted brows.
Software bug ?
Without being prompted, her phone
begins to dial Elliot again. This time, Neve finds herself starting at it, not
wanting to end the call.
She might have always been a bit
of a malfunction magnet, but this feels different. Darker. The kind of feeling
you get when you’re watching a horror movie all by yourself.
An incoming call makes her jump
out of her skin.
It’s from a blocked number.
With zero guesses as to whom it
could be, Neve clears her throat and receives the call. “Hello?”
“Is this Miss Knightly?” an
unfamiliar voice asks.
σ
Neve’s
damp locks lash against her skin as she bursts into the hospital’s emergency
ward. And right before a fresh onslaught of
panic cripples her, she notices a young girl behind a small reception desk.
There is a ‘VOLUNTEER’ tag clipped
to her shirt.
“Can I help you with something?” she
chirps with an excessively chipper voice.
Neve goes to speak, but a police
officer at the end of the hall beckons her attention.
Is he the one who called her?
Neve swallows the tension in her
throat, and with gravity clawing at her feet, sets out in his direction.
Her steps become smaller and
smaller, and then she is just standing still, waiting for him to meet her
halfway.
“Miss Knightly?” he approaches.
“How is he?” Neve asks with a
whisper-soft voice.
“Can I see your ID, please?”
“Oh. Yes.” With her eyes
struggling to focus, Neve rummages through her bag until she finds her wallet.
She pulls out her driver’s licence and hands it to him. “I’m not family,” she says as the officer checks her ID. “His
family lives in Toronto.”
“We’re in the process of getting a
hold of them as well. We called you because you’re listed as his local
emergency contact.”
Neve nods, barely registering his
words. “So, what happened?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t been updated
on his status. But the doctor should be out soon.”
“Okay, but what happened ? You
said you would explain once I got here.”
“Well—” he drops his gaze and rubs
his stubble. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but so far it looks like attempted
suicide.”
Suicide .
She’s underwater. She can no
longer hear a word he’s saying. The world is fading to black, and all she sees
is Elliot dangling from a rope in his dorm room. Or lying in a pool of his own
blood with
Similar Books
