Chapter 144: A Voice on the Line

Chapter 144: Chapter 144: A Voice on the Line

"—here, I’m here!" Dahlia’s voice broke through, ragged with relief. "Oh my god, Seffy, you’re awake, you’re actually—"

"I’m awake." Persephone pressed the phone hard against her ear like it might slip away if she loosened her grip even slightly. "I woke up and I didn’t know what happened, I called you before but nobody answered, I thought—"

"I know. I know, I’m sorry, I would’ve called sooner but things have been—" Dahlia’s voice caught, steadying itself with visible effort. "It’s been a lot, Seffy. It’s been a lot here too."

"Are you okay? Is Dad okay?" The questions tumbled out faster than Persephone could organize them. "Is Victor with you? What happened, why didn’t anyone answer, I thought you were all—"

"We’re okay. We’re all okay." Dahlia’s voice softened, the particular gentleness she used to save exclusively for calming Persephone down after nightmares as a kid. "Dad’s here. Victor’s here. We were all asleep too, the same as you — some kind of phenomenon, we still don’t fully understand it. We just woke up a little before you did."

"Someone told me the world ended," Persephone said, the words still feeling unreal even as they left her mouth. "Zombies. Actual zombies. Is that — is that true?"

A pause, heavier than she wanted it to be. "It’s true."

Persephone’s chest tightened all over again.

"Stay where you are," Dahlia said, firmer now. "Don’t leave the apartment, don’t try to come here on your own. We’re coming to you. Dad’s already planning the route."

"When?"

"Soon. We had to secure the estate first, gather supplies, figure out what we were even working with. But we’re coming, Seffy. I promise."

Persephone squeezed her eyes shut, some of the panic finally loosening its grip now that she had a plan, however uncertain, instead of just silence and fear. "I tried calling Penny. She’s not answering either."

Dahlia’s voice went quiet for a beat. "We tried her too. And Aunt Mary. Neither of them picked up."

"Do you think—" Persephone couldn’t finish the sentence.

Rustling on the other end, a brief exchange of muffled voices, and then a different, deeper voice came through the line, calm and steady in a way that immediately eased something in Persephone’s chest despite everything.

"Persephone." Her father’s voice, unmistakable even through the tinny satellite connection. "It’s Dad."

"Dad." Her eyes filled again, relief this time instead of fear. "You’re okay."

"I’m okay. Listen to me." His tone stayed level, the same voice he’d used her entire life to talk her down from every crisis, real or imagined. "I know you’re scared for Penny. I am too. But she’s smart, and she’s with the Rykers, and Mary would burn this whole world to the ground before she let anything happen to that girl. The moment we reach you, we go to her next. That’s the plan. I need you to trust that and stay calm until we get there."

"Okay." Persephone’s voice came out smaller than she meant it to. "Okay, I trust you."

"Good girl." A brief pause, warmth threading through the exhaustion in his voice. "Stay inside. Don’t answer the door for anyone you don’t already know. We’re coming."

Another shuffle, and Victor’s voice replaced Silver’s, rougher, quicker. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ

"There’s a storm starting to build wherever you are, probably," he said. "It’s already hit us hard here. Heavy rain, thunder, visibility’s bad. If it reaches you before we do, stay away from the windows and don’t go outside for any reason. We’ll find you regardless. Just don’t make it harder on yourself in the meantime."

"I won’t," Persephone promised, glancing instinctively toward her own window, the curtains still drawn tight.

"We love you," Dahlia’s voice came back, closer to the phone again. "We’ll see you soon. I promise."

"I love you too. All of you." Persephone’s voice wobbled. "Please be careful."

"Always am," Victor said, somewhere in the background, and despite everything, a small, wet laugh escaped her.

The call ended a moment later, and Persephone sat there on the floor for a long moment afterward, phone still clutched in both hands, feeling something in her chest settle for the first time since she’d woken up alone and confused in a world that no longer made sense.

They were alive. They were coming. That was enough, for now, to hold onto.

She tried Penelope’s number again, more out of habit than real hope at this point, and the line rang twice before dropping into the same hollow silence as every other attempt.

Persephone lowered the phone slowly, worry curling tight in her chest again despite everything her father had just told her.

But then, unbidden, another thought surfaced — steadier, more grounding than the fear.

Erik.

She’d met him only once, years ago, at some family gathering she couldn’t fully place anymore — tall, quiet, watchful in a way that had struck her even then as someone who noticed everything and said very little about it. She remembered Penny talking about him constantly growing up, the older brother who’d practically raised her alongside her younger brother, the one Aunt Mary trusted with everything. Malachai, she thought his name was — she’d never actually met him, not properly, only heard stories, teasing and fond, the way Penny always talked about her family when she thought nobody who mattered was listening.

But Erik. Persephone remembered Erik clearly enough to trust the impression he’d left — steady, capable, the kind of person a room seemed to organize itself around without him needing to ask for it.

If anyone could keep her safe until we reach her, Persephone thought, some of the tightness in her chest easing slightly, it’s him.

It wasn’t certainty. It wasn’t proof that Penelope was safe, wasn’t anything close to the relief she’d felt hearing her father’s and sister’s voices on the line. But it was something to hold onto, a small, steadying thought in the middle of everything else that still didn’t make sense, and for now, curled on the floor of an apartment that no longer felt entirely like home, Persephone let herself hold onto it anyway.