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“Justin! I’m so sorry,” I sobbed into the telephone. “I was scared to tell you because I love you and I thought that you would leave and never come back. Where’s Brad? I think I should talk to him, too.”

“Anna? Whoa, slow down sweetie,” Justin soothed. “Why don’t you come over here? I think we need to talk about a lot of things.”

I hesitated. “Could you maybe come over here?” I asked, the pleading evident in my voice.

“You’re at Angie’s, aren’t you?” Justin guessed.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling into the phone. He always knows where I am, I thought.

We hung up and while I was waiting, a million thoughts raced through my brain. I didn’t know what to expect from Justin; I hated to see him angry or sad. Then, the doorbell rang and I thought it was him but it was Mike.

“Hey Anna. Where’s Ang?” he asked, smiling.

I shrugged and walked away. I had always had a bad feeling about Mike. Especially after I had seen him holding hands with some other woman down the street the night I came here; the night after I freaked out on Justin and Brad. I went back into my room and sat there thinking. I didn’t know what to do about Brad. I didn’t know if the baby was his, or Justin’s. I hoped inside that it was Justin; but I would never say that out loud. The doorbell rang again and this time it was Justin.

“Oh Anna! I’m so glad you’re okay!” he exclaimed, scooping my tired, frail body into his warm embrace. “But, there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Anna,” Justin began, his tone becoming more grave, “the police found Brad dead yesterday.”