Eighty-nine

It was six in the evening when the car screeched to a stop near a small cafe in the outskirts of town. The taxi driver had tried to get her to converse, but Anelia had been too busy thinking about the preposterousness of her actions to really engage in the conversation.

"Be safe now!" The woman shouted, as Anelia stepped on the curb.

"Thanks?" Anelia spoke loudly, although it came out as a question. Was the apprehension she was feeling internally so perfectly drawn on her face that the woman had felt obligated to wish her safe.

Without another word from the drover, the taxi drove off and there was no way back now. It was too late to go back now. She had taken the bait and travelled so far away to get some answers.

Anelia rubbed her palms on her jeans and unlocked her phone. There was no message to direct her any further, so she waited. She had barely taken a step in the direction of the cafe when the familiar tone of her phone signalling an incoming phone call rang.

"Yes?" She answer