No answer.

I called again.

Nothing.

My hand was shaking so badly I could barely work the phone.

Finally I called my sister.

“Sarah.

Is Emily with you?” There was a pause, a pause with a whole ocean in it, and then she said, “Yes.” “Put her on.” “She’s sleeping.” “Sarah.

Noah told me Rebecca hit her.” My sister let out a long breath, the kind you let out when you’ve been holding something too heavy for too long and someone has finally come to help you carry it.