But first, I had to call Beck one last time. I grabbed my phone and dialed Fredrinn five times in a row. The first four went unanswered. On the fifth, his voice came through, rough and annoyed.
“Lesley, what now?”
My throat hurt. “Fredrinn… thanks. For the five years. I just realized—”
He cut me off. “You just realized now? Fine. Come to the hospital tomorrow. Apologize to her. Be decent to Miya. She’s saving your life. You should be grateful instead of acting like the world owes you something.”
Before I could answer, I heard Miya in the background. Sugary, fake concern dripping off every word. “Who are you even talking to?”
“It’s Lesley,” he said flat.
Miya gasped. “Lesley? What does she want now? Is she begging again? Fredrinn, I don’t want drama. I’m scared of her. I slapped me, I’m traumatized. Maybe after a month, once I calm down, I’ll do the surgery. I know she’s jealous. I don’t want you two fighting. I’m sorry.”
“No, Miya. Don’t apologize.”
The line went dead. He hung up. Just like that.
My phone buzzed before I could pull it from my ear. A new message.