“You want me to call the retired clerk from Florida you once mentioned,” Gregory scoffed. “Fine, let us hear what your imaginary hero has to say.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked the screen.
“What is the number,” he asked sarcastically.
I recited the number slowly and Gregory typed it before pressing the call button while putting the phone on speaker so everyone in the kitchen could hear.
The call connected after only two rings.
“Identify yourself,” a deep commanding voice said from the speaker.
Gregory cleared his throat. “This is Gregory Gaines, Amelia’s husband. Your daughter is creating a dramatic scene and I thought you should know.”
The voice on the line paused for a moment.
“Put my daughter on the phone immediately,” the man ordered.
Gregory rolled his eyes and shoved the phone toward me.
“Talk to your father,” he muttered.
“Dad,” I whispered weakly.
The voice changed instantly and fear filled it.
“Amelia, why are you calling this secure line and why do you sound hurt,” he asked urgently.
“They pushed me and I fell,” I sobbed. “Patricia shoved me in the kitchen and now I am bleeding badly, I think I lost the baby.”
The silence on the phone lasted several seconds.