Reaching Out to a Friend
I couldn't hold on any longer. Trembling, I dialed my closest friend, Liz. "Liz... I'm finished," I sobbed as soon as she picked up. I poured out everything—the camera discovery, David's denials, his recent oddities, Sarah's suspicious call—my voice quaking uncontrollably. After a long pause, Liz spoke, her tone grave. "Listen, this is huge! You can't handle it alone! I'm coming over right now!" Her voice was firm. "Don't do anything rash! Wait for me! Lock the door!"


Liz's Swift Arrival
She hung up; I could hear her gathering her things. Liz arrived astonishingly fast—within twenty minutes, the doorbell rang urgently. I practically flew to open it. Liz charged in, pulling me straight toward the bedroom without a word. "Where?" she demanded, eyes sharp. I pointed to the crack behind the nightstand. Liz immediately dropped to the floor, peering closely at the black cube.


Retrieving the Black Cube
"Can we pull it out?" she asked. "I didn't dare touch it," I whispered, trembling. "I'll do it." Liz carefully extended her fingers, probing to dislodge the object. Her movements were gentle yet resolute. My heart hammered in my throat, torn between stopping her and watching. Slowly, she pinched the small black cube and eased it fully from the narrow gap.

NEXT ‌ >>