Time For Answers
Ally dropped the sack, the cigars cascading over the floor, and ran back to the stairs. The wood creaked in agony as she hurried back to the old kitchen, to the hallway, and to the phone.
It was still ringing when she got to it, the shrill tone piercing the air. Ally tried to compose herself, the adrenaline coursing through her body. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone. It was Mark.