And yet, the show had to go on. Despite the ominous threats herself and a handful of her school friends had received, Grace wasn’t sure what to do besides carry on as normal. She couldn’t go to the authorities, couldn’t tell Abe. All they could do was try to figure out who was behind this. Until then...she still had to make ends meet.
But she couldn’t forget that heart, it’s ominous movements, her name pressed into the paper that sat below. She couldn’t forget the rage in Roman Stubbe’s voice, or the cold indifference in Sebastian’s eyes.
In her dreams she found herself secured to annapolis blue walls by specimen pins, thin crimson ribbons trailing from pierced shoulders over her naked chest. Sebastian Stubbe’s breath swept over her cheek, wintry eyes crowded with indulgence as he thrust deeper, each passing moment drawing her nearer to an inevitable climax.
She rubbed at her temples, the frustratingly empty moments allowing her thoughts to wander too far. She’d had a tension headache, but the tightened threads of her mind began to loosen under the vitalizing influence of black, fairtrade coffee. The hold music was having the opposite effect, twisting an uncomfortable knot at the top of her spine, suspense mounting as the minutes drifted. Any minute now the notes would stop - a chipper voice to ask how they could help her.
Instead, there was a knock at the door. Grace blinked, glanced at the clock. 9:12AM. She certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone… Her mind was already reeling with grisly possibilities...a severed hand. A threatening letter. A box of photographs. She wet her lips with her tongue, lowering the phone from her ear and ending the call.
“One moment.” She called, spying a shadow behind the window. She tucked her wand into the waistband of her jeans before moving to the door and pulling it ajar cautiously.
She stared for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Mr. Stubbe.” Seemed like a decent place to start.