A Stranger Handed Me a Blue Box at Church and Said, “You’ll Need This Tonight”—I Wish I’d Opened It Sooner

My hand trembled as I answered. “Hello?”

The voice was distorted, run through some kind of electronic filter that stripped away humanity, but underneath I heard something familiar. An emotional cadence I recognized in my bones.

“Simon Grant, listen carefully. Don’t trust Amber. Don’t trust Rowan.

Don’t trust the police. Your life is in danger.”

My throat closed. “Who is this?

How did you get—”

“I’m sorry I can’t explain everything yet. Be careful. Trust your instincts.” The voice carried genuine anguish beneath the distortion.

“And Simon? Check what Blair was investigating before she died. The truth is rooted in this land.”

The line went dead.

I sat in the midnight silence, my daughter’s name echoing through my skull. Your life is in danger. I wanted to reject it, to call Amber immediately and laugh about paranoid strangers, but something stopped me.

Some instinct honed by forty years of reading people told me that voice had been telling the truth. So instead of calling my daughter, I went to Blair’s office and started searching. What I found made the midnight warning impossible to ignore.

Continue reading…