Six girls. Six voices. One silence that devours them all.

On the surface, they are ordinary—Nora with her cautious watchfulness, Jayla with her jokes, Clara with her lists, Marisol with her sketches, Tessa with her quiet, Elise with her bravado. But something follows them. It taps in the walls, whispers through their phones, crawls into their notebooks and sleep. It doesn't care about grades or families or secrets. It only cares about breaking them, one by one.

In classrooms, in cafeterias, in the safety of their own homes, the silence grows louder. Each girl tries to fight it her own way—through laughter, through denial, through control, through pretending it isn't there. But the silence has patience. It waits until their armor cracks. It waits until they're alone. It waits until they finally hear it for what it is: inevitable.

Call Me When You Get Home is a relentless descent into suburban horror, where friendship becomes a fragile lifeline, and silence is never empty—it's watching, waiting, and hungry. Fans of The Babadook, Hereditary, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle will hear echoes in every page.