Page 92 of Sinful Palace

“She’ll get you,” she says, her voice so soft I can barely hear it.

“Who’ll get me?”

She draws in a raspy breath. “Just go!” she says. “Get as far away as you can.”

I shake my head. “Chloe, I don’t understand—”

She cuts me off with another urgent whisper. “It’s too late for me. Please, Willow… go. You can’t let her get you.”

“Chloe, I—” I falter as her hand drops, and she goes limp. She’s unconscious again.

I spot something out of the corner of my eye, and I glance over to the alleyway entrance to see that strange shadowy thing again. What is it? Is there even anything there, or am I just seeing things?

I’m feeling woozy now, and colorful spots are starting to appear in my vision. Everything hurts, especially my head. I let out a groan and stumble back over to my scooter, trying to figure out what to do next.

Chloe begged me not to call 911. I don’t know why, but it sounds like someone is after her. Someone who could hurt her if I call the usual authorities. But what else can I do?

An idea suddenly flashes in my mind. I retrieve my phone from a zipped pocket on the side of the Vespa and dial the private line to my house. My mom can help. She’s powerful. Influential. Always knows what to do. She can have people here to help us in mere minutes.

She answers on the fifth ring. “Hello?”

“Mom, it’s me,” I choke out. “I need help.”

The memory suddenly vanished, as if it was sucked into a giant black hole, and then I was right back in the room with Myla and Logan.

I sat up and stared at them. “I remember it,” I said, eyes wide and heart racing. “I remember what happened.”

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