Wicked Chase

❖ Chapter Three

[dedicated to Sarah, who is a fantastic writer]

CHAPTER THREE

I looked down at the phone, my eyes widened and were probably as round as saucers while they repetitively scanned the messages. Most of them were asking if I was alright, why I wasn't picking up or if something had happened to me. I didn't bother listening to the voicemails so instead I dropped my bag onto the couch and once I had settled myself into the couch and let my breathing and heart rate return back to it's normal pace since it had picked up once I saw the numerous of calls, messages and voicemails that my mother had left on my phone, I dialled her number and waited anxiously, a heavy emotion settling in my stomach.

My mother had asked more than weekly how I was holding up with university, if I was okay or if something had happened to me. But never had she called this many times or been this worried to have left so many missed calls, messages and voicemails. Something had gone wrong and it didn't take a stranger to know it, too.

She picked up on the first ring and the first thing that I heard through my phone was a breathless and worrisome query, "Genevieve, baby, are you alright? Are you safe? Has something bad happened?" I couldn't see her face but I could picture the worrisome expression that wore her beauty down and showed the crinkle of concern in the corner of her eyes and the crease on her forehead that would indicate that she was worried about me.

"I'm okay, Mum," I replied hastily to reassure her and not let her worry deepen. "Why? Has something happened?"

There was a slight pause which told me that my mother was hesitant like she didn't know what she would tell me was true or not. "How busy are you with your studies?" she said instead because she and I both knew that once the words as to why her worry was this big would have me question her endlessly.

I didn't give her the satisfactory reply she wanted. "Why?" I asked. I knew she was keeping something from me. Her reluctance to tell me why she was so worried that she had left so many missed calls, messages and voicemails on my phone told me that she was hesitant in telling me what was bugging her.

"I need to talk to you," she said and in all honesty I didn't know how to reply to that. My mother and I had always been close. Even though I had moved to university, the love and care she showered me with never grew less. The love of a mother never dies and I was grateful to be on the receiving end of that beautiful love.

A silence settled between us and I could hear the nervous breathing from the other side of the line. Finally, I swallowed, my heart racing the slightest bit as I said, "what's going on, Mum?" My voice was soft and gentle, with an edge of curiousness to it that told my mother that she was done avoiding what the cause of her worry was and straight up tell me what put her in this position.

"Can I come see on Sunday?"

The reply, yes, was on the tip of my tongue. I hadn't seen my mother in quite some time. She lived right across the country and it took almost half a day to travel back to home. I had just started university and I couldn't find the time to visit her in my busy schedule. I was less busy these days but I couldn't afford to miss a lecture. I wasn't exactly the smartest person.

I was about to say yes but then Alastair's voice drifted into my head and I found the urge to cancel with him. But that would only give him the impression that I do not want to be associated with him and that would shut down the possibility of me getting any answers that would help keep my sanity in check because with all these freaky nightmares, I was almost certain that I was going insane.