Chapter 77 Seventy-seven

• Mikhail
• The phone sits on the table, taunting us. My fingers itch to pick it up and hold it in my hand, but Gunsyn sits at the table, toying with his gun. His eyes dart between me and the phone, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of feeling like a big man. I ignore him and his pathetic intimidation tactics. But I know better than to make any sudden moves.
• My dad, who has always been larger than life, suddenly seems so human. I made him vulnerable by running away. If my dad is dead and his voice doesn't come through on the phone, I'm as good as dead too.