* * *
I awoke with a jolt, finding it was late in the afternoon. I had the same nightmare I have had many times before. There was something unsettling about it all. It was as if the dream wasn’t just a figment of my distraught mind but a vision of actual events. The image of the person approaching the car, his or her features being hidden by the blinding headlights, was frightening.
My cell phone rang, ending the silence with its ear-piercing ring. Reaching out towards the nightstand, I picked it up and accepted the call. “Hello?”
“Miranda? It is me, Britney,” a female voice said in a low tone.
Britney Burgos was my sister’s best friend. Sharing mostly the same classes, they did everything together. It wasn’t uncommon to see them out and about, shopping or going to the latest party.
Britney was a captivating brunette whose full mane and warm chocolate eyes seemed to put every boy in school under her spell. Her skin was golden brown, and her build was curvaceous. However, her fun loving personality, although sometimes stuck up, brought her status among their high school class.
“Britney?” I questioned, sitting up in bed. “Where have you been? I have been trying to reach you for days now. I wanted to ask you about the letters.”
“The letters?”
I nodded, speaking into the phone. “Yes, the ones my sister received.”
She remained quiet for a minute before she spoke. “Caleb has been arrested,” she said, her voice sounding strained.
Bringing my free hand to my temple and giving it a slow rub, I answered, “I know.”
Britney ignored me, whispering in the phone. “I have to talk to you,” she told me. “Can you come over to my house?”
“Can this wait until tomorrow?”
“No,” she answered abruptly and then lowered her tone. “I wouldn’t ask you if it weren’t important.”
I glanced out the window, estimating the amount of daylight left in the day. “Of course,” I told her. “I don’t think my father will have a problem with it as long as I am back before dark. I will be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” she said before hanging up the phone.
Shattered Page 11