sixty seven

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-diane-

I should try to tell Julia that her mother moved up my death date. I don't know what happened or what her mother did, but I at least expect that she tried to hide the phone. Maybe her mother will look for it but won't find it.

As I dial her number, I wish we had come up with different ways to contact each other. Anonymous email would work out fantastically right now.

Instead, I wait as it rings.

And rings.

It clicks as she answers the call.

But she doesn't say anything.

It must not be safe for her to talk. Maybe she can hear me, but won't risk saying anything in case she is overheard.

I say, "Julia, your mother moved the party up to tomorrow. I don't know what happened to you, but I need your help."

"This is just what I expected. Thank you for confirming my theory for me, my dear."

The phone clicks off.

Marcia Quintana. I'd recognize her chilling voice anywhere.

She must have gotten hold of the phone. Maybe she tortured the location out of Julia. Whatever lie Julia came up to defend herself, I just blew up. Her mother knows for certain that we are working together.

My phone rings again, causing me to flinch. It's Julia. At least, Julia's phone. Out of curiosity and pure fear, I answer. "Yes?"

There's laughter in the background. It sounds like Julia's. "Just so you know, we got you. It's been a lot of fun messing with Diane, hasn't it, Julia?"

"Oh yes. Sorry. Diane, you were sweet and all, but we just had to mess with you. Did you think that I would actually help you? I know what you and your father and your grandfather did to this country. I could never be friends with you." Julia says.

"Bye Diane." Marcia Quintana says.

Julia echoes, "Bye Diane. Hopefully I never have to talk to you again."

The phone clicks off as Marcia Quintana hangs up.

A part of me wants to believe this is true. That Julia was never helping me. It was all a joke with her mother. Because that would hopefully mean that my death date isn't true. It was all part of their little game.

But I recognized the tinniness to Julia's voice. It was a voice recording that Marcia Quintana must have hooked together to make the sentences. She wants me to believe that everything her daughter told me was fake.

I'm not that stupid.

Julia is on my side. And I'm on hers.

And right now?

Julia is the one that needs my help.    


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