A Deal With The Italian Mafia

he party. That damn Lina-running off with a g

ter than the last. The empty streets stretched ahead of me, dim and eerie, shadows flicke

My reflection flitted alongside me in the glass-distorted, ghostlike. I didn't l

g a shiver down my spine. The air felt heavier than it had earlier, thick with something

buzz shattered the silence, a spike of fear

ing-it was Lina, finally checking in after ditching me

less something was wrong. My fingers tightened around the phone, t

before I could change my mind, I pressed "Answer" and b

oice wavered despite my best eff

on the other end wasn't just empty-it was su

orcing the word out. I heard a breath-slow,

ili

rld st

how to

ned, my knuckles aching. Th

or it. Hearing it in my dream

t my lips, strangled and trembling.

trapped in my throat. As if keeping it there might somehow ho

, yet suddenly too vast, too quiet. I

five years ago-without a single trace. The p

g. I used to imagine him somewhere out there, alive. Maybe he had amnesia.

back. In a whisper.

hrough me, slicing like a blade, like a wa

e years of dialing disconnected numbers, ch

s my name, then ends the call. A pit formed

breath caught

ght to voicemail,

uel trick my mind played on me after too many sleepless n

the truth. I would nev

, as if something unseen had just shifted the

tice the figure creeping closer

et, but the shiver down my spine wasn

them-a presence closing in beh

I quickened my pace. But the moment my steps grew faster, so di

far. If I could

shop window caught my eye

ht-a tall figure standing unnaturally still. Wa

eins. My stomach knott

clamped over my mouth, swallowing my scream.

as ice. Before I could even scream in my mind

g flood of fire through my veins, robbi

med at me to fight, but I couldn't. My muscles went limp. My phone

ched for something-anything-to hold onto. The sound of my name

found wa

forward, swall