When she asked where I planned to stay, I looked helplessly toward Camille.
“I have a sister,” I admitted. “But we haven’t spoken in a long time.”
“Would you like to call her?” Camille asked.
I hesitated.
Then nodded.
My phone was still in my purse.
Fortunately, Brandon hadn’t taken it that evening.
Jasmine’s number was saved near the bottom of my contacts.
I stared at it for several seconds.
Then pressed call.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
“Hello?”
Her voice nearly broke me.
“Jasmine?”
Silence.
Then—
“Hannah?”
I covered my mouth.
“It’s me.”
“Oh my God. Are you okay?”
I started crying.
I couldn’t stop.
Jasmine’s voice changed immediately.
“Where are you? Tell me where you are.”
“I’m safe.”
“Hannah, what happened?”
I tried to explain.
The anniversary dinner.
Brandon.
The office.
The stranger who protected me.
When I finished, Jasmine was crying too.
“I knew something was wrong,” she whispered.
