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The tacky paperstuck to Jake’s palm as he crumbled the note in his hand. He’d been staring at it long enough that he had the number memorized. The country code was France, but the rest was a mystery. One that would remain that way unless he worked up the nerve to dial the number.

This was ridiculous. It was just a phone call. Jake had been toIraq, Afghanistan, and places people hadn’t even heard of.

So why was making this call so terrifying?

You know why, his subconscious chided.

He did … but admitting that was easier said than done.

The moment he made the call, he could no longer avoid the inevitable. He would find his father, or he wouldn’t. Either way, he’d be failing his mother.

If he called and it turned out to be another dead end, then Jake was back to square one and his mother would be out of time, never getting the closure she deserved.

But if he called and managed to track down his father, the results could be even more disastrous. Jake might not be able to persuade him to come, or if he did, his father’s presence might just make things harder for Jake’s mother.

Jake cursed Dana for putting him in this position. She’d gone behind his back and now he was forced into a corner. Even if she’d done it for the right reason, she’d done exactly what he’d asked her not to. Just like he did to her time and time again.

He stared at the note, wondering if they’d ever truly be able to change their habits?

Jake checked the time, annoyed with himself for how long he’d been debating this.

“Screw it,” he muttered. It was time to get this over with.

He punched the numbers into the phone and hit call. The phone rang repeatedly until finally, the mechanical click of an answering machine kicked in. Jake squeezed the phone tighter, pressing it to his ear as the voice on the other end filled the space between them.

“Bonjour, vous êtes arrivé à la résidence Berger. laissez un message s”il vous plait”.

The language was foreign, but the voice … Jake would know that voice anywhere.

It was the voice of a ghost.

One who haunted his dreams as a child and sometimes even now as an adult.

Jake hung up the phone, his father’s voice cutting through him, a draft so cold it sliced bone deep.