Then, one dreary morning, my phone rang, the sound cutting through the stillness of my room. The number was unfamiliar, a string of digits that felt foreign, and yet it gripped my heart in a way I couldn’t explain. I hesitated, feeling a sudden chill crawl up my spine. Finally, I answered.
“Jack?” a voice on the other end asked. It was a low, gravelly voice that sent a shiver down my spine. “We need to talk.”
“Your grandmother wasn’t who you think she was.”
The words struck me like a bolt of lightning. I felt my breath catch in my throat, and the world around me narrowed, the room closing in as a wave of confusion and fear washed over me. “Who is this?” I managed to stammer, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
“We need to meet. There’s a lot you don’t know, and you deserve the truth.”
