Page 74 of The Immortal's One
Knock. Knock.
I groan. That didn’t take long.
I drop the cozy pair of pajama bottoms I planned to change into and move to answer the door.
Expecting Bella has heard about how Eshe and I crashed the Immortals’ meeting, I swing the door open and say, “Let the record state, I had no idea?—”
I snap my mouth shut and frown.
No one is there.
I plant a hand on the doorframe and hesitate before sticking my head into the hall. I look left. Then right. There’s no one.
I purse my lips, irritation simmering. With their powers, an Immortal could most certainly knock and disappear in the blink of an eye. I’m not interested in being the target of their childish game of ding dong ditch.
I shake my head in frustration, ready to slam the door, but something catches my eye. There, on the floor—a small black box.
My heart pounds as I scan the hall one last time. Seeing no one is there, I crouch to pick up the box and then step back inside. Holding the box away from my body like it’s a snake ready to bite, I carry it to the bed and set it on the wrinkle-free duvet.
I cross my arms and study the mysterious box. There are no markings. No signs of what’s inside.Should I open it?
I really want to.
But is it safe?
The brothers’ enemies have already tried to hurt me twice.
But this house is a fortress, right?Thane called it that himself.
Do it, Darcie.
I shove aside my hesitation and open the box. I lift the lid, and a gasp tears from my throat when I see what’s inside. My phone!
I hurriedly clutch it to my chest, my heart skipping a beat.I didn’t think Thane would give it back, especially not after that fiasco downstairs. But then a startling thought enters my mind:Maybe he didn’t.
The secrecy around my phone's return fills me with apprehension, but it’s not enough to stop me from pressing the power button.
My heart continues to race as I wait for the device to power on. My smile grows when I see the full battery and a new charger tucked in the corner of the box.
Maybe I’ll get to call Dad today after all.
The manufacturer’s logo flashes on the screen. I squeal with delight when my home screen illuminates.
I type in my passcode and immediately tap my contacts list. I scroll to Dad’s name and hit “call.”
My palms grow sweaty as I listen to the rings. I switch my phone between my hands and wipe them on my floral blouse.
Click.
“Dad?”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
What in the–?I draw the phone away from my ear.
Call Failed.
My heart sinks, and I confirm my fear in the upper right-hand corner of the screen. No reception.
