The inayofuata morning I had to rub the sleep that had formed from the tears last night. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was only seven. Everyone else would be asleep. My phone buzzed on the cracked side meza, jedwali beside my kitanda and I reached over and checked the text. It was from an unknown number.
I have the witch at the old church outside the tomb. We’re doing this now.
I knew who it was from. She had Bonnie. I gulped and hurriedly pulled on my clothes. After twenty dakika I was ready. I crept out into the hallway and was about to go down the stairs when I stopped. I may never see Aunt Jenna...
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