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My ‘nap’ lasts until the next morning. I startle awake in bed like I’m late for something. A glance at the pillow beside me reveals a note from Poe saying he went to work already with a starred addition to turn on my phone. The all-caps reminder makes me want to leave it off for a while longer. Knowing how Poe would freak tempers that. First, I have to find the stupid thing.

How am I in bed? Did he carry me here? Crazy man. I’m sure of it because I’m buck-naked under the sheets. It’s a good thing I don’t have any virtue to tarnish. I need to text that to him.

Without social media and limited contact with people other than Poe, I’ve lost my phone more times than I can count. There isn’t any need to check it constantly or play games. I don’t want to see whatever the Internet has in store for me. It’s freeing, but I get bored quickly.

I have to dump my purse out on the coffee table to find it. Then I have to plug it in to charge because it’s deader than a doornail.

I shower, change, and make myself some breakfast before I return to the bedroom.

The number of missed calls and messages has my eyes widening in panic.

Over a hundred phone calls, hundreds of texts, and more than a few voicemails.

Did my number get leaked? Poe warned me about it, but I didn’t think it would happen to me. My shoulders sag, my good mood trying to slip away from me. I rally quickly with a scowl. If that’s happened, then it’s time for a new number. I can’t put off looking at it. Especially when it starts ringing.

A glance at the caller ID says it’s Daniella. My lips purse as I send it to voicemail. I have nothing to say to her. Plus, I’m busy trying to figure out how to raccoon-roll through trauma. Her pettiness can stayhers.

When I open the call log, I have to scroll for a long time. Every name from the Broussards comes up multiple times, the most frequent being Asher and Maman.

Panic hits me so hard that I lose my breath. Something happened. Someone’s hurt. They wouldn’t all be calling me for anything less.

I put my phone down and force myself to collect my thoughts. I need to think before I act here. It’s something we’ve been working on in therapy. No more snap reactions to the Broussard’s games until I see it from all angles.

Once I’m calm enough, I think it out. Yeah, maybe someone is hurt, and they called me this time. But is that likely? When have they ever called me for emergencies? Pretty much never. I’m too dramatic for their tastes.

The only other reason they call is to complain, lie, degrade me, or just plain be cruel.

Maman leads, and they all follow. If I don’t answer one person’s phone call, they’ll keep trying, at her insistence. I’ve experienced it before. Asher has never been a part of it before, though. It hurts seeing his name added to the roster of harassment. Maybe he actually showed up for dinner, and now he’s pissedagain.

Okay. I know what to do now.

I delete every single thing they sent without looking at it. The same with the voicemails. Then, I block all their numbers.

It isn’t like they need me. They’ve done just fine without me for a long time now. I don’t need to stop my life every time someone calls. It’s a good thing Poe shut my phone down. All this would have ruined my honeymoon.

A pang of guilt hits me. It’s the truth, but I hate thinking it.

Poe texts, and I vent to him. I’m not convinced that they don’t need my help, and I’m feeling horrible about blocking them. He talks me through it and comes to the same conclusion I did. I’ve done something ‘wrong’, and the whole family is mad about it. They even had Joseph calling me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him on the phone, unless you count background noise.

When I get off the phone with Poe, Damon calls me, sounding confused as hell.

“Hey, Addie?”

“Yes, Damon?” I ask with a slow drawl.

“I keep getting messages from random numbers saying the same thing.”

I frown at the news. Why is he calling me about it? It’s not like I know what to do. Other than calling the phone company.

“That’s weird,” I mutter unhelpfully.

“Yeah. Even weirder? They all say the same thing. Tell Addie to be there.” He sounds spooked now.

“The hell?” Goosebumps break out all over my body. I’ve seen enough hoodoo to know spirits are real. I just don’t need it as in my face as this.

“So, be there?” He finishes lamely.

“This has to be some prank. Be where? And when? Maybe it’s the winning numbers to the lottery,” I joke, trying to brush the creepiness aside.