Later that Night

His phone lights up. Half asleep, he looks at it. A text from Theresa.

You up?

“This can’t be,” he thinks. “Something is wrong.” The phone stirs again. Antother text.

I need to feel you inside of me.

He shoots out of bed and looks out the window. The dirt over her shallow grave has been disturbed. There is a soft knock at his bedroom door. It opens slowly.