I call my dad, and he answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
The screen is black. “Dad? Where are you?”
“Courtney!” He screams my name and then lets out a sob. “You’re alive.”
The screen is still dark, but I see a shift in it, and I realize my dad has the phone pressed to his ear.
“Pull the screen away from your face.” Two months away and nothing has changed. It almost makes me cry.
He pulls it back and then stares down at me, confused for a second before he understands. When he finally gets a good look at me, he sobs again.
Sadie was right. He looks thinner than I’ve ever seen him. There are dark circles under his eyes and a gray color to his skin I’ve never noticed before. He looks older, if that’s possible in two months’ time.
“I’m alive,” I say. “I’m fine. Better than fine. Things
