Ginny's hands trembled as she picked up her phone, her thumb sliding over the screen to find Lucy's number. The image of the walls—covered in frantic, fluorescent writing—burned in her mind like an afterimage she couldn't shake. When the call connected, it rang a few times before Lucy's voice came through, groggy and stretched thin with sleep.
"Ginny? Why are you calling?" Lucy yawned, the sound dragging through the phone. "It's late, isn't it? Or is it early? Oh, crap, what if I overslept? Do I have class today? Wait, do you have class today?"
"Luce, focus," Ginny snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a breath to steady herself. "I just sent you something. Check your phone."
There was a shuffle on the other end, followed by the sound of Lucy fumbling with her phone.
"Okay, okay, chill. I'm checking."
A pause. Then, "What the hell?"