I jolted awake, gasping, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I looked at the time, and it was already 6 PM. The room was dark. I had been asleep for hours. The dream clung to me, the image of that crying child seared onto the back of my eyelids.
And then I heard it. A sound piercing the silence of the apartment. My phone, vibrating on the nightstand, lighting up the darkness.
It was Becky, the one person who had seen me through every crisis since we were eleven. The call went to voicemail. A second later, it started ringing again. Insistent. Relentless. Becky is calling… Becky is calling… Becky is calling… but I wasn't interested in taking the call. Of what use is it? She has told me never to burden her with my problems ever again, and I was done with her.
With a tre
