I didn’t have Lelia’s number. Or Lucilla’s. I asked around, but none of the other girls had it either. Odd. Stranger still was the scream I heard shrill, slicing through the thick, smoky air of the club like shattered glass. Heads had turned when it happened. I know they did. The sound was too sharp, too real, too loud to ignore.

And yet, when I questioned them later, not a single soul remembered hearing a thing.

That silence disturbed me more than the scream itself. It festered inside ...