David's Growing Unease
"Sarah? Sarah, what were you saying?" I pressed urgently. "Hello? Mom? Signal's... breaking up... I'll... call back later..." The line went dead, leaving only a dial tone. I clutched the phone as a chill snaked down my spine. Her evasive tone, that interruption by noise... What was she hiding? What had she seen but didn't dare share? David's behavior worsened. He grew distant, snatched his phone back the moment it left his sight, and set increasingly complex passcodes.
Testing His Phone Passcode
At night, he lay like a cold wall, back turned to me. This deliberate detachment hurt more than outright accusations. Unable to bear it, I seized his phone from the bedside charger while he showered. The cool, heavy device lit up, demanding a fingerprint or passcode. I tried his usual number combinations—all wrong. The screen flashed a cold warning: one more wrong attempt would lock it. Defeated, I replaced it, palms slick with sweat.
A Midnight Nightmare
What was he guarding against? Was he hiding something from me? Deep into the night, he jolted awake again, gasping for air, forehead glistening with sweat. In the darkness, his shadowy outline seemed distorted. "David?" I ventured. "Another nightmare?" He was silent for seconds before rasping, "Yeah." He wiped his face, avoiding my gaze, and lay back down as if the episode had been a phantom. Silence engulfed his side of the bed, leaving only the pounding of my own heart.
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"Sarah? Sarah, what were you saying?" I pressed urgently. "Hello? Mom? Signal's... breaking up... I'll... call back later..." The line went dead, leaving only a dial tone. I clutched the phone as a chill snaked down my spine. Her evasive tone, that interruption by noise... What was she hiding? What had she seen but didn't dare share? David's behavior worsened. He grew distant, snatched his phone back the moment it left his sight, and set increasingly complex passcodes.
Testing His Phone Passcode
At night, he lay like a cold wall, back turned to me. This deliberate detachment hurt more than outright accusations. Unable to bear it, I seized his phone from the bedside charger while he showered. The cool, heavy device lit up, demanding a fingerprint or passcode. I tried his usual number combinations—all wrong. The screen flashed a cold warning: one more wrong attempt would lock it. Defeated, I replaced it, palms slick with sweat.
A Midnight Nightmare
What was he guarding against? Was he hiding something from me? Deep into the night, he jolted awake again, gasping for air, forehead glistening with sweat. In the darkness, his shadowy outline seemed distorted. "David?" I ventured. "Another nightmare?" He was silent for seconds before rasping, "Yeah." He wiped his face, avoiding my gaze, and lay back down as if the episode had been a phantom. Silence engulfed his side of the bed, leaving only the pounding of my own heart.
NEXT >>
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