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the man who answered the phone.
    “Who’s this?”
    “I’m Abbey King. I went to high school with Heather.
    “This is Heather’s dad.”
    “Mr. Hobart, it’s been a long time.”
    “I’m here moving Heather’s stuff out of her apartment. She died.”
    “Died?!” Abbey gasped.
    “Heather tried to kill herself twice last year and managed to survive. This time she succeeded. She was found dead in her bathtub.” His voice cracked, “I can’t believe that she’s gone.”
    “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hobart. Is there anything I can do?”
    “It’s too late for anyone to help. I can’t talk about it anymore.” His voice deteriorated to a whimper and the phone clicked.
    Light rays made jagged marks across the wall. She wished for rain with lightning and thunder. There needed to be a loud racket to interrupt the living so the world will know her friend died. Instead, Heather’s passing was diminished by the cheerful glare of the sun.
    Heather chose to die, Abbey reasoned, so now she has her peace. She cried softly for a few minutes then forced herself back to her list.
    Next task—phone Sean Haverty, Mariah’s dad, to ask for her number.
    “Sean, it’s Abbey. I need Mariah’s phone number. I want to invite her to play a benefit basketball game with our old team.”
    “Sure. Here it is.”
    “Are you okay?” Abbey asked. “I’ve heard you have some heart problems.”
    “I’m fine. My old ticker just slowed down—just like the rest of me.”
    “Take care of yourself, Sean, and I’ll see you at church tomorrow. Good-bye.”
    Mariah’s phone rang six times before a man answered, “Toleson residence.”
    “May I speak to Mariah?”
    “Who should I say is calling?”
    “Abbey King, a high school friend.”
    “Are you sure you’re not a reporter. I’ve heard similar tricks.”
    “I’m the real deal. We played on a basketball team together.”
    “I’ve been Mrs. Toleson’s Personal Assistant for three years. She’s never once mentioned being a basketball player. I’ll take your number so she can return your call, if she chooses to.”
    “Okay,” Abbey responded.
    One roadblock after another, was her thought as she dialed Sean again.
    “Sean, Mariah’s assistant didn’t let me talk to her. He thinks I’m a reporter. Will you phone her and tell her about the game?”
    Sean agreed.
    Abbey dialed the last number on her list, hoping for third-time charm.
    “May I speak to Tina?”
    “Mom died,” a child’s voice squeaked. “Talk to my Dad.”
    Abbey suppressed the moan that was rising from her chest to her throat.
    “Hello,” said a somber voice.
    “I went to high school with Tina. How did she die?” Abbey’s voice cracked every couple of words. She wasn’t sure she made sense.
    “Who are you?”
    “Abbey King. I played basketball on the Diffee High School team with Tina.”
    “Yes. I do remember her mentioning your name,” Gavin spoke slowly. “She died of respiratory failure as a result of being poisoned. She was murdered.”
    “Did they arrest her killer?”
    “No.”
    “I’m…sorry for your loss!”
    “Thank you,” he said. Then the phone went dead.
    She clutched her trembling hands together. “Gary!” she cried out.
    He ran into the kitchen, took one look at her, and asked, “My, God, what’s wrong?”
    “My friends are dead,” she moaned.
    “Who’s dead?”
    “Heather and Tina are dead like Terri!”
    He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Her body trembled in his arms as she wept. Red streaks on her face accented her pale skin and her eyes were swelling shut.
     

Chapter Thirteen
    Abbey tried to remember how she ended up on her bed. She vaguely recalled a sensation of being picked up and carried. She didn’t have a clue as to how she managed to fall asleep with all the sorrow surrounding her. Her body felt heavy and she didn’t want to leave the support of the bed or the comforting darkness.
    Her thoughts went back an hour to the discovery of