Heart of Eagles part 3

Emmy tugged her new pink sweater over her head and ran a comb through her thick brown curls. She eyed herself critically in the mirror, smoothing a wrinkle out of her crisp white skirt.

  From the chair, where she had carelessly tossed it upon arriving home from school, her cell buzzed loudly. Startled, Emmy turned, knocking a vase of fresh flowers off the night stand. The glass shattered upon hitting the floor, sending glittering shards all over the room. Emmy took a shaky breath, mourning the loss of such a beautiful thing. She slipped into her shoes and cleaned up the mess as slowly as possible, feeling her heart beat faster with every tick of the clock. She cast nervous glances at the green glowing numbers on her dresser, feeling the broom handle slide through her clammy palms.

Emmy’s cell buzzed again, jolting her once more. She snatched it up off of the chair and clicked it off without even checking to see who the texts were from.

  Satisfied with the condition of her floor, Emmy dumped the glass shards into her waste basket and sat down slowly. She dropped her rag and sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, her feet cold and rigid against the dark wooden paneled floor, the cold seeping through her nylons.

  The phone rang, sending a web of shivers up Emmy’s spine. She crept noiselessly to the door, pressing her ear against it.

 

  “Oh hi!” He mother’s voice exclaimed cheerily. “Sure, hold on just one minute.” Emmy braced herself for the inevitable. “Emmy!”

She gritted her teeth and called back.

  “Yes?”

  “Phone for you dear!”

Emmy opened the door a crack and peeked out.

  “Tell them I’ll call them back later.”

Emmy’s mother looked up at her curiously.

  “What?” She asked, the phone pressed against her shoulder.

   “Tell them I’ll call them back later.” Her daughter repeated.

    “Can she call you back in a bit?” Mrs. Spencer said into the receiver, her eyes still fixed on Emmy. “Alright thank you. Goodnight.”

  Emmy turned back into her room and snatched up her champagne colored clutch, catching another quick look at her reflection before she dashed out.

  “I’ll be back before ten. Have a good night.” She called as she hurried out into the rain, her mother’s concerned words lost in the roar of a December wind.