Voicemail

ARYA’S POV I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Marco's hand around my throat or heard his voice promising to take me away somewhere I would never escape. Dante, at least, was better. The fever had broken completely during the night, and he nursed peacefully in the early morning hours. I pressed my face against his soft hair, breathing in his sweet baby scent. "I'm going to get us out of here," I whispered. "I promise, sweet boy. I'm going to keep you safe." Around seven, I heard movement outside my door. Then, for the first time in a week, the lock clicked open. But no one entered. I waited, holding my breath but there was nothing. Frowning in confusion, I continued to pet Dante. I moved around my daily routine until curiousity got the better of me and I crept to the door and pulled it open. The hallway was empty. My heart pounded as I tiptoed toward the stairs with Dante in my arms. I reached the bottom of the stairs to find that living room was empty and the kitchen