Sandra's POV.
My phone rang just as I was washing my hair in the bathroom. The sound was muffled by the running water and the lather in my ears, but I could still hear it buzzing insistently from somewhere far away. I sighed, annoyed at the interruption, and called out to my mother.
"Mom, can you get my phone? It's on top of the microwave!"
"Where did you say it was?" she called back, her voice slightly strained.
"On top of the microwave!" I repeated, louder this time.
From the corner of my eye, through a haze of soap and water, I watched my mother rush towards the kitchen with a speed that made me worry she might trip and fall. But she made it safely, and a moment later, she was at the bathroom door, phone in hand and a triumphant smile on her face.
"It's Alpha Tyson calling," she a
