I took her hand in mine and felt a small object forced into my palm.
I scrambled to the raggedy heap and rolled her over. It was Nostalgia with three gunshot wounds!
“You’re in grave danger, Dearie!” she interrupted. “This is Plan B!”
R: City Park. 11pm. Alone. Bring this phone. -G
“That leaves us with just one number that she called nine times, Sir.”
“Benedict Arnold just left,” she whispered before hanging up the phone.
I can’t sleep.