Page 506 - Anonymous

was not ready for. My father rushes to

me. "Sinclair, what is wrong, honey?"

"They have her. Whoever killed

Chelsea, they have Willow." My voice

shakes, and I can barely breathe. I point

to the note, and Dad reads it, shouting

for Mom.

“Lisa, call Willow, now.” My

mother grabs her phone off the dining

room table and stares wide-eyed at the

two of us. She does as he asks.