NYRA

This was the third time.

The third time a message like this slid into my phone like a knife under the skin.

(Unknown: Stop searching for Tyler or you’ll weep over Claire.)

My fingers shook as I read it again, then again, like the words would change if I stared long enough. They didn’t. They only sat there, heavy, breathing threats.

The first message had been different, softer almost clever.

(Unknown: I know where Claire is. Lena has been lying to me.)

That one had scared me for ...