At the Stroke of Midnight

With each ring that went unanswered, Donna felt her heart beat faster. Clutching her iPhone tightly, she turned around to check the time. The bright red digital display of the radio controlled clock stated 23:11. And with each passing second, Donna was starting to fear the worst. Turning her attention away from the clock and back to the phone, she absentmindedly played with the silver wedding band on her finger. A few seconds later, the familiar sound of her daughter Helen’s bubbly voice urged her to record a message after the beep. Not having anything else to add to the previous six voice mail messages that she had left in the past two hours, Donna hung up. She could feel beads of sweat starting to form on her forehead and her throat felt parched.

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