How the hell were you here, now, in this body? Why did no traces of David Wilcox seem to exist? You began to pace around the small bedroom. You looked...down at the phone, your fingers moved, as if on their own accord, typing in the number. You hit call. You exhaled as the the dial tone sounded, it was early but you hoped she would pick up.“Hello,” The familiar women’s voice sounded on the other side of the line.“Margaret,” You said the name slowly. Hoping desperately for her to respond. It didn't help things later when I got a cell phone call from Lindsey about an hour later saying that she'd had a late start and would be a little bit late getting there and that she'd plan on meeting me at my apartment in about three hours, around 5 p.m. or so. I thought I might have heard some giggling in the background but I couldn't be sure. Probably it was just her car radio.Being male, and thus semi-oblivious to female Machiavellian plots even under the most ideal circumstances, I didn't. More

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