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"Phillip?" Barnum called, breathing heavy, heart pounding a thousand beats a second, "Phillip, where are you?"

He followed the voice to the other guest bedroom. The one that he had been asked to sleep in before—

(disrespecting your wife)

"Phillip!" He burst through the door. Phillip stood, hands clasped over his mouth, looking out the window. "Are you all right?!"

"You said!" Phillip cried, whirling around and pointing at Barnum. He shook all over, eyes filled with blue fire. "You said they wouldn't find out!"

"Phillip, you need to calm—" Despite his own anxiety,

(you had a panic breakdown)

Barnum tried to keep his own voice low, controlled.

"I'm going to die!" Phillip's voice cracked. Fresh tears flooded his eyes and a high, keening wail escaped his lips. "Don't you understand? They're going to kill me. He's going to—"

He sobbed and pressed shaking hands up to his face. "I don't want to die," he moaned.

Barnum's head throbbed. He rubbed his temples and tried to make sense of the situation. "You're not going to die, Phillip, are you - who are you talking about?"

Phillip's shaking lips parted, but all that came out was another piercing wail. 

Downstairs, somebody pounded on the front door.

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