Chapter 3: The Number Nobody Recognized
Daniel held the phone between us.
Victoria's eyes went straight to it.
"Who sent that?" she said.
Her voice had changed again — the softness gone, something harder underneath.
"I don't know yet," Daniel said.
He wasn't looking at her.
He was looking at me.
I took the phone from his hand and read the message again.
The number had no name attached.
No area code I recognized.
Just those four words sitting there, flat and certain, like whoever sent them had been waiting for exactly this moment.
"It's probably one of the neighbors," Victoria said.
"Someone who has a problem with me.
Daniel, you know how people in this street talk—"
"Stop." I handed the phone back to him.
"Don't explain it away before we know what it means."
Her jaw tightened.
"I'm not explaining anything away.
I'm telling you that someone is clearly trying to—"
"Victoria." Daniel's voice was very quiet.
"Why would a stranger send this message at the exact moment you did what you just did?"
She had no answer for that.
The neighbor across the street had finally moved on, but slowly, glancing back twice before she turned the corner.
I noted it.
A witness who had seen enough to remember, but not enough to know what she'd seen.
I looked back at Daniel.
"Do you recognize the number at all?"
"No."
"Forward it to me."
He did it without hesitating.
Victoria watched him do it.
Something moved behind her eyes — not fear exactly.
Calculation.
"I think we should go inside," she said.
"We're standing in the driveway and this is a private matter."
"It stopped being private when you threw water at my sister in front of the street," Daniel said.
She pressed her lips together.
I looked at her then — really looked, the way I look at a contract before I sign it, searching for the clause that will matter later.
She was composed now.
Too composed.
The shaking hand had steadied.
The almost-tears were gone.
Whatever had cracked open when Daniel said my name had already sealed itself back shut.
That told me something.
People who make genuine mistakes stay shaken.
They don't recover that quickly.
"I'm going to find out who sent that message," I said.
"And I'm going to find out what it means."
"It means nothing," Victoria said.
"It's mischief.
Someone stirring up trouble."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
She smiled.
It didn't reach her eyes.
"I'm not worried, Clara.
I made a mistake.
A genuine, embarrassing mistake.
I've apologized.
I don't know what else you want from me."
"I haven't decided yet," I said.
Daniel put his hand on my arm.
"Come inside.
Please.
You need to change out of those clothes."
I let him lead me toward the front door.
I didn't look back at Victoria.
But I heard her heels on the stone path behind us.
Following.
Keeping pace.
And her phone, in her hand, was already lit up.
She was typing something.
I caught the motion in my peripheral vision just before the door closed behind us.
She wasn't calling anyone.
May you like
She was sending a message.
And she was doing it fast.
