"Hello?" Cinnia said into her phone. Normally, she wasn't one to pick up calls from anonymous numbers but inexplicably, she found herself doing so. As if the call was a magnet, drawing her to tap the answer button without a thought. There was heavy breathing on the other end. One that almost seemed too familiar. The exact breathing pattern of the corrupt man from her vision, dream, or whatever it was. Cinnia bit her lip and paused the preparation of the omelet she was making around six a.m. that morning. She scratched the inside of her palm as she awaited a response. Yet, there was nothing. So, Cinnia braced herself to speak once more. "He-hello?" She choked out. She shut her eyes, hating the way her voice cracked. That was a weakness she didn't want the caller to notice. "Good morning. I hope your meal turns out great," The caller said. Cinnia's eyes darted from side to side in fear. She gulped, turned off the stove, and began slowly backing to the stairs. Denzel was upstair
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