Page 109 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

A way to reach out, beyond just… showing up.

“Lucille Page?”

I nod once.

“You’ve got a free upgrade, actually. Or you could—”

“Free is good.” I force a smile.

“Okay. I’m deactivating your current SIM card, and then—”

“Wait, sorry, was it not already deactivated?”

He spins the monitor to show me the activity. “No, appears like it’s been in intermittent use for the past two years. Nothing consistent, though.”

A series of incoming calls, each lasting only about thirty seconds.

“Am I going to get my texting threads back?”

He shrugs. “Depends on how much got backed up before you lost it. Usually it requires being connected to WiFi and plugged into power.”

“Right.”

“But, we’ll see.” He points to a row of newer model phones. “Any of those you can upgrade to.”

I pick one at random, and he disappears into the back. A moment later, he returns with a box and cuts it open. He activates the phone and hands it to me for my information, then takes it back.

“Huh,” he says a few minutes later.

I jerk, my cheeks heating when I realize I had zoned out. “What?”

“You’ve got some voicemails saved. That’s unusual—normally they stay with the phone, not the account. You must’ve manually saved them.”

“Ah.” I nod like I know what he’s talking about. I don’t have a clue—I can’t remember the last time I had a voicemail. Then again, the last time I had a phone that didn’t flip open was when I lived on LBU West…

“All set.” He extends it. “Should be good to go.”

“Thanks.” I slide it into my pocket and head outside.

I put some distance between myself and the store, then stop. All the while I’ve been walking, the phone has buzzed with incoming notifications. The curiosity has me burning.

Unlocking it, I ignore the little red flags from my social media accounts. I have over a hundred texts and three voicemails.

Voicemails first, I guess.

The number isn’t saved, which is weird.

I click on the oldest one, from eight months ago, and raise the phone to my ear.

“Fuck, Lux.”

I automatically shiver at Theo’s hoarse voice.

“I know you won’t answer. I know I’m fucking crazy. But tonight’s one of those nights where I can’t sleep, and all that seems to be between me and insanity is your voice.”

It ends at that.

I click on the next, dated six months ago. I was in New York City then, taking photos of the governor.

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