Chapter 4: The Call
Malcolm stared at the phone.
*NIA.*
The name glowed between them.
Tasha's tears hadn't stopped, but something in her expression had changed. She wasn't surprised by the call.
She was afraid of it.
Malcolm looked from the screen to her face.
“Answer it.””
Tasha shook her head.
“Malcolm…”
“Answer it.””
The phone continued vibrating in her hand.
He held out his palm.
“Give it to me.””
“No.””
“Then put it on speaker.””
Tasha's fingers tightened around the phone.
The ballroom had gone strangely quiet again.
The band had stopped playing.
Guests watched from their tables, sensing that something had happened even if they couldn't hear the conversation.
Tasha finally swiped the screen.
“Hello?””
Static.
Then a woman's breathing.
Slow.
Unsteady.
Malcolm leaned closer.
“Nia?””
Silence.
Tasha's eyes widened.
Malcolm reached for the phone.
“Nia, where are you?””
The line remained silent for another second.
Then came a whisper.
“Malcolm?””
His chest tightened.
“Yes.””
“Don't trust—”
The call suddenly cut out.
Malcolm looked at Tasha.
“Don't trust who?””
She said nothing.
He took the phone from her.
“Call her back.””
“I can't.””
“Why?””
Tasha's voice broke.
“Because she isn't supposed to have that phone.””
Malcolm froze.
“What?””
Tasha looked toward the ballroom doors.
“I said she isn't supposed to have it.””
“Whose phone is it?””
Tasha didn't answer.
Malcolm grabbed her wrist.
“Tasha.””
She looked at him.
“It belonged to your sister.””
The words landed like a gunshot.
Malcolm released her.
For several seconds, he couldn't move.
Then he whispered, “What did you just say?””
Tasha's lips trembled.
“I shouldn't have told you.””
“You knew.””
“Yes.””
“You've known this whole time?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
She looked down.
“Before I met you.””
Malcolm stepped backward.
The photograph in his other hand crumpled slightly beneath his fingers.
“You knew my sister.””
Tasha nodded.
“Where is she?””
“I don't know.””
“Where is she?””
“I don't know!””
Her voice cracked across the ballroom.
Everyone heard it.
Tasha covered her mouth.
Malcolm lowered his voice.
“You're lying.””
“I wish I were.””
He looked at the photograph again.
The little girl smiled from the image.
His sister.
The silver necklace around her neck.
The same broken charm he had just seen on Nia.
Malcolm swallowed.
“Who took this photograph?””
Tasha stared at it.
“I did.””
His eyes lifted.
“You?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because she asked me to.””
“Your answer doesn't make sense.””
“I know.””
“Then make it make sense.””
Tasha wiped her cheek.
“She found me after I moved away from home. She was older then. She told me not to tell anyone where she was.””
“Why?””
“She was scared.””
“Of who?””
Tasha hesitated.
Then she looked directly at him.
“Your father.””
Malcolm's face hardened.
“My father died eight years ago.””
“I know.””
“Then why would she still be afraid of him?””
Tasha's eyes dropped.
“Because some things don't die when people do.””
A chair scraped across the floor behind them.
Both turned.
An elderly guest stood near the cake table, looking pale.
He stared at the photograph in Malcolm's hand.
Then at Tasha.
“You promised,” he whispered.
Tasha's face drained of color.
Malcolm turned.
“Promised what?””
The man backed away.
“I shouldn't have come.””
“Sir.””
He kept walking.
Malcolm followed.
“Wait.””
The man stopped at the ballroom doors.
He glanced toward Tasha.
“She knows where the girl went.””
Tasha shook her head desperately.
“No.””
The man looked back at Malcolm.
“She always knew.””
Then he disappeared through the doors.
Malcolm turned slowly.
Tasha was crying again.
“You're going to tell me everything.””
She nodded.
“I will.””
“When?””
Tasha looked toward the empty chair where the envelope had been.
“Before midnight.””
Malcolm checked the ballroom clock.
11:42.
“You have eighteen minutes.””
Tasha closed her eyes.
Then her phone buzzed again.
A new message appeared.
*NIA: COME ALONE. SERVICE KITCHEN. 11:50.*
Malcolm read it.
Tasha reached for the phone.
He pulled it away.
“I’m going.””
“No.””
“You're staying here.””
“Malcolm, listen to me.””
“I've listened to you all night.””
He headed for the service doors.
Tasha grabbed his sleeve.
“If you go alone, you may not come back.””
Malcolm stopped.
Slowly, he turned.
“Then you better come with me.””
Tasha stared at him.
He opened the door.
Behind them, every guest was watching.
And somewhere beyond the ballroom, a woman's voice suddenly screamed.
May you like
“Malcolm!””
He ran.
