Chapter 35

• HANNAH
• The shrill ring of my phone slices through the silence of the room. With a reluctant groan, I peel back from the warmth of my duvet, the chill of the room prickling my skin as I stretch a hand toward the scattered contents of my purse on the floor. My fingers fumble for the device, the cold touch of the screen against my palm grounding me back to reality.
• "Hi, Mom," I croak out, my voice a raspy whisper, raw from the tears that had carved rivers down my cheeks earlier.