𝙁𝙀𝙍𝙊𝘾𝙄𝙊𝙐𝙎 » 𝙅𝙒: 𝙙𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙣

II

My stomach plummets to my feet. First from disappointment, then from sharp pricks of terror. I look across to the slivers of light dashed across our living room floor, moving slowly with the rising sun.

It's just an inquiry. That's all it was. I exhale a silent breath, closing my eyes. We got these now. They were a normality that wasn't ever going away as long as Jurassic World's existence still tainted the animals that roamed free just beyond the city we tried to call home.

It was just a phone call.

'Might I ask who's calling?' I reply politely, swallowing a nervous breath. I had every little white lie and tactical diversion for every situation; by phone, by door, being approached in the street when I was with him. As I'd had since the day I'd moved from that island out into wider terrain. I pinch my fingertips against the wilting leaf of one of our bench-top plants; letting the cool soothe the temper pricking away at my insides.

'I'm a representative from 'Preserve the Herd', a non for profit organisation with dozens of establishments across the country,' they say. 'We're in the midst of organising a rally in New York and was wondering if he might be available to answer a few questions in regards to his time spent on Isla Nublar in the days leading up to the Jurassic World accident.' There's a brief silence filled by the distinct, incoherent chatter behind the caller. 'Who might I be speaking to at the moment?'

'I'm his housekeeper,' I say awkwardly. 'He's at work at the moment.'

'Ah... right. That's no matter. Do you know when Mr Anderson will be home?'

'Uh, no, I don't I'm afraid. I come and go and rarely ever speak to him in person.'

The faint echo of wood sounds from the other end of the phone. 'We're ready for you sir,' says a sweet, distant voice.

'Of course,' the person replies, muffled from covering the phone. '... Sorry about that ma'am. What was your name again?'

'Hayley.'

'Wonderful. Well, thank you for picking up irregardless, Hayley. I wonder if you'd be kind enough to let Mr. Anderson know that I called?'

I smile grimly. 'I will.'

'Wonderful. Thank you again, Hayley.'

'Thank you,' I say kindly. 'Bye.'

I put it back down on the holder, letting the eye roll beckoning in my waterline drift up to the ceiling. Late morning tranquility resettles over our living room. They were always nice, but always painfully insistent. Alex's composure and patience with them always left me in awe.

Myself, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. I'd grown bitter of being Hayley the housemaid over the phone on my days off years ago. I exhale the heavy breath I'd been clutching to my lungs, sauntering towards the fridge for brunch possibilities.

My fingertips had just touched themselves to porcelain of my coffee cup again when the phone goes off.

'Oh you've gotta be...' I press my lips together so hard my tongue starts to sting. Ten seconds. Not even. It was always the chatty ones. The ones who repeated your name over and over and dolloped pity over their tone really quick in the hopes they'd gain sympathy from turning a simple inquiry into an invasive phone frenzy. I whip the phone free from the holder, pressing it to my ear. 'Hello?'