My phone buzzed against the towel beside me. Annoyed at the intrusion, I picked it up, expecting a reminder for a dental appointment or a message from a friend. Instead, a single, stark line glowed on the screen from an unknown number.
Leave quietly. Do not tell the kids. Go to the car now.
At first, I felt a flicker of irritation. Spam, I thought, or some kind of cruel, automated prank. A wrong number. I was about to delete it when a second line followed, appearing just beneath the first, as if typed by an unseen, urgent hand.
Your life and your house are in danger. The Santa Fe.
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