"Who's there?" she finally called out, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her. The response, however, was a chilling silence that did nothing to alleviate her growing dread.
"It's me," a voice responded, weak and breathless, punctuated by a series of hoarse coughs. Luna's heart dropped, recognizing her best friend's voice. There was a strain in it that sent a jolt of alarm through her. The way Evelyn gasped for air, it sounded as though she'd run a marathon.
Evelyn remembered the grueling pursuit she had endured, desperately seeking solace in Luna's apartment—the nearest refuge from where the truck had stopped.
"Evelyn?" Luna finally heard a weak call from the other side.
The strength of Eveyln's call was dwindling, each syllable sounding weaker than the one before. "Open... the door."
