Three Knocks | ✔️

22|

The clouds scattered to steady daylight at dawn, soft enough to wake up in a great mood. The roads were no longer slick, and the cool breeze caressed their skin like faux fur. Jake stirred, causing Camille to untangle from his embrace. Upon noticing an uptight Miranda glaring at her, she stopped dead in her tracks.

"When did you wake up?" Camille asked, fixing her hair.

"I never sleep. I couldn't."

"Oh"

"I didn't intend to creep you out. I'm sorry," Miranda said, pinching Camille's cheek like a toddler.

She is back, except it could be her way of masking her feelings.

"You have to stop talking like that. We are not together."

"Doesn't mean you can't be."

Cheeks red like a lobster, Camille wore her seatbelt and looked out of the window till Jake crossed the border. With their takeaway coffee in hand, a prop to appear like morning owls and interested in what Barcelona offers, they entered Hotel Arts. They joined the never-ending queue at reception and hit their adjacent rooms around ten.

Camille slept like a baby. She woke up at five in the afternoon drenched in sweat. No knocks have troubled her since she left Jake's house. Little Miranda, however, bothered her mind into the deepest corners.

Jake did not stop the car and hit her at full force, blood splashing on the windshield. Some of her organs, including her heart, stuck to the wipers. Camille screamed. Bobby has replaced Jake in the driver's seat. He choked on water, followed by Shawn burning in red flames. In the backseat, Aaron burned. Javier was suffocated by excessive water entering his mouth.

Camille would have been pulled into oblivion if the door on her side had not opened and a force as strong as a tornado dragged her out. She flew, and her nap broke right before she plummeted to the ground.

"Oh God," she whispered, scratching her head.

Maybe they should have booked a suite instead of a single room each. They are stronger together. It's a worldwide fact.

Camille stripped and lay down in the bathtub. Cold water prickled her sensitive skin. Hissing and breathing hard, it took a while to accommodate. Closing her eyes, she returned to the party. Maya bumped into her. She tried changing the scenarios, asking her to tag along, ditching the party for a girls' night out, going inside together and letting loose on the dance floor, except each one ended on a big tree on a regular morning at the campus.

Camille returned to her senses when her phone rang. She hurried out, wrapping a towel around her trembling body.

"Hello, are you okay?"

"What, of course, I'm fine. Let's eat. You've been sleeping long enough," Miranda complained.

"Okay, I'll be right there."

The trio gathered at the bar. Jake has changed into a short-sleeved shirt on khaki shorts, and Camille into a summer striped dress, grabbing attention. Miranda had not changed. She stank of sweat, and her face begged for more sleep.

When she excused going to the bathroom, Camille grabbed Jake's hand.

"Talk"

"You should have figured it out by now."

She snapped, "I cannot lose her."

He handed her a tissue paper.

"A sign does not always mean death. She is in danger like you are, and I am. That's all I can say right now. I see the stranded souls of dead people, Camille. Miranda is alive. Whoever took her form did it to scare us."