The shriek of my cell phone in the quiet classroom meant only one thing: the killer had found us again.
My fingers fumbled, palms slick with dread, but I had to answer on the first ring—that was the rule.
I raised the phone to my ear and was out of my chair even before I heard my mother’s panicked command: Run.
With shaking hands I stuffed my books and notes into my bag—we could leave nothing personal behind; that was another rule. I raced past the scowling teacher, knowing every minute, every second, brought the killer closer.