I hit the speaker icon. “Dad, what police? I’m fine. I’m good. Arnold was supposed to tell you that I was safe with Van.”
“He did. It was your text messages. Don’t worry about the balloon payment. All that matters is you.”
“Balloon payment?” I looked up at Van in question. “Dad, I haven’t texted you.”
Mom’s voice came onto the call. “Julia.”
I took a deep breath. The last time I’d spoken to her, she was telling me to marry Skylar. “Mom, I’m safe.”
“Why are you calling on Donovan’s phone?” Her volume lowered. “Is he forcing you to say you’re safe? Did he threaten you? Has he hurt you?”
Van’s phone began dinging with incoming messages.
I turned back to him, my eyes open wide, searching for answers. “What is happening?”
Mom continued, “Julia, we told the police everything. They’re on their way. They can help you.”
“Help me what, Mom? I’m literally standing in a bathroom, drying my hair, and about to unpack. Unless you called the police to help me unpack, I don’t understand.”
“Is he listening? If you can’t talk freely, say dress.”
My mother was giving me a safe word.
“Julia, come home.”
“I’m home, Mom.” I hit the disconnect button. “What the hell?” I asked Van.
He took the phone from me and began reading the onslaught of text messages. “Fuck, Julia. Come downstairs.”
“What is happening?” I asked again.
“Text messages were sent to your parents by you—your phone—claiming you were afraid of me. I hurt you. I think because you supposedly broke off the engagement. Your dad thought I’d demanded the balloon payment be reimbursed.”
“Phillip.”
Van nodded.
“Who’s downstairs?” I asked.
“According to Albert, there are two uniformed state patrol officers at the gate. I just texted for him to allow them entry. I’d say they’ll be at our door in a minute or two.”
As we stepped from the bathroom, I saw Michael down the hallway near the landing.
I reached for Van’s hand. “Was he looking for me too? I heard voices.”
“I think we panicked Margaret as well.”
We headed toward the staircase. “Why would Phillip do this?” I asked.
“Because he thinks he has nothing left to lose. The thing is that he’s wrong. But when I’m done, he’ll be right. He’ll have nothing left.”
“Van, I don’t want this to go on.”
Van stood taller, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “It won’t. I promise.”
The ring of the doorbell echoed from down below.
“The police are here,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I’m sure they’ll want to speak to you alone.”