The Night It Ended by Katie Garner EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Katie Garner
- Language: English
- Genre: Psychological Thrillers
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I’m speeding home when the phone rings, persistent and angry, demanding
to be heard. I know I should answer it, even though I want nothing more
than to throw it out the window. I could let the call slide into voice mail,
delete it, never hear the voice on the other side.
But I can’t.
I jerk to the side of the icy road to a chorus of blaring horns, dig the
phone out from the cavernous tote bag resting on the passenger seat beside
me. The phone is sleek and black, brand-new—opposite of the cracked,
chunky white one I’m used to shoving in my back pocket.
A sweet little chime and the ringing ends.
1 new voice mail.
Quickly, I glance in the side mirror. Car exhaust melts away into the
morning winter sky. Nothing is behind me, nothing but air. I exhale a deep
sigh of relief, press the phone to my ear.
“H-hi, this message is for Dr. Madeline Pine—”
A siren wails in the distance. The phone slips through my fingers, lands
mutely in my lap. A knot swells in my throat. I glance in the side mirror
again, feel my heart pound, each breath shrinking to tiny gasps. The sirens
near. An emergency vehicle speeds past.
It’s only an ambulance.
My body wilts. I take a deep breath. In. Out. The knot in my throat
loosens.
I hate the person I’ve become. I’ve never been this nervous, this afraid,
anxiety and fear clinging to my every move. I wish I could escape—step
into someone else’s life, if only for a moment.
Just twelve short months ago everything was different. I was different.
Any other December, I would’ve been home, prepping for the holidays,
shopping online for last-minute deals on things none of us needed. My
husband, Dave, would be staying too late at work, his dinner wrapped in a
blanket of aluminum foil, kept warm on the stove. My teenage daughter,
Izzi, would be upstairs in her room, scrolling noiselessly through her phone,
feet kicked up on the bed behind her.
The house would’ve hummed with the steady softness of disjointed home
life, but instead here I am, lurched to the side of the road, the air frigid in
the tiny cabin of my car, listening to a voice mail I never thought I’d hear.
I replay the message:
“H-hi, this message is for Dr. Madeline Pine. If you get this, I’m
Matthew Reyes, a private investigator working on behalf of a family.
Listen, I was hoping you could please call me back at this number, I—I’d
really appreciate it. We have a sixteen-year-old female who died on school
property. The police believe it’s an accident, but the mother hired me to be
sure. The girl was found at the bottom of a hill. No witnesses. I thought you
might be able to help—given your expertise. Please call me back. Thanks.”
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