Page 139 of Override

For a second, I think I've imagined it. A trick of an exhausted mind that has spent the better part of three days thinking about one person.

Then it comes again. "...Taibhse?"

My eyes fly open. Every trace of sleep disappears. The office is silent. The monitors still glow. The clock on the wall reads 2:17 a.m.

My pulse pounds in my ears as I sit up too quickly. No. Not imagined. I know that voice.

I reach for the small speaker sitting beside my laptop so fast I nearly knock it onto the floor.

The bathroom microphone. The only thing they never found. For three days…Nothing. Not a single sound.

I grip the speaker so tightly my knuckles ache. Static crackles softly. Then...

"I don't know if you can hear me." Maeve. My eyes close. Just for a second. Because hearing her feels like breathing after being underwater too long. "I think you probably can."

A tiny laugh escapes her. It's quieter than I remember. Tired.

"If anyone would somehow still be listening..." Another pause. "...it would be you."

My throat tightens.

"I guess if someone finds this recording someday..." she says softly, "...they're going to think I've completely lost my mind."

The corner of my mouth twitches. Even now...She's trying to make herself laugh.

The room around me disappears. There's only her voice. Only the sound of her breathing between sentences. Only the tiny catch she tries so hard to hide.

"I just..." Silence. Long enough that I wonder if she's changed her mind. "I wanted to say thank you."

The words barely rise above a whisper. "You gave me something I didn't know I'd lost."

I swallow hard.

"You reminded me what it felt like to laugh."

Every muscle in my body goes still.

"What it felt like to wake up looking forward to part of my day."

She laughs quietly again.

"I know that probably sounds ridiculous."

No. It sounds like the most important thing anyone has ever said to me.

"I keep thinking..." Another long pause. "...that I wish we'd met."

The words punch every bit of air from my lungs. "I think I would've liked meeting you."

My grip tightens around the speaker.

"I didn't realize..." Her voice wavers for the first time. "...I didn't realize how much I could miss someone I'd never actually met."

I stop breathing. Not metaphorically. Literally. The next breath refuses to come.

My knuckles go white around the speaker.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Because somehow...She misses me as much as I've missed her.