Then a few months earlier, she stopped switching on her camera.
Bad internet, she said.
Her phone was old.
She was tired.
Now I understood.
Phedra tried to rise, but her legs gave way beneath her.
Godfrey stepped outside wearing new designer clothes and holding a glass of scotch.
“Hurry up. We still need the dinner plates.”
“I feel dizzy,” Phedra whispered. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
Godfrey laughed.
“With everything you stole, you should be able to buy yourself a feast.”
Every part of me wanted to storm through the door.
But years of working around damaged machinery had taught me something.
When a machine starts failing, you listen before touching it.
The sound tells you where the breakdown began.
So I listened.
Phedra begged them to let her call me.
Selina entered the backyard wearing the gold hummingbird necklace I had given Phedra for our fifth anniversary.
