Eighty one

Kamille's POV

As I stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, a towel wrapped snugly around my body, I reached for the hairdryer to tame the unruly strands of my hair. The soft whirring of the dryer filled the air as I began to brush through the damp strands of hair, coaxing them into submission.

Midway through my hair-drying routine, the familiar buzz of my phone disrupted the tranquility of the moment. Glancing at the caller ID, I see Zeke's name flashing on the screen. My heart skipped a beat.

Why the hell is he calling me from the blues?

For a fleeting moment, I considered the possibility of hearing his voice, but then, I reminded myself of the extent to which he kept lying to me.

With a resigned sigh, I set the phone back down, opting to focus on getting myself dressed. As I continued to dry my hair, my thoughts drifted to the letter that had arrived earlier.

The address it contained, a car park near a playground, loomed in my mind. I tried to assess how secure the environment