My phone on the passenger seat lit up.

The screen showed my supervisor Julie’s name.

I hit the speaker button and set the phone on the dashboard.

“Mara,” Julie said.

Her voice was thin, competing with the static of the hospital lobby behind her.

“I am here, Julie,” I said.

“Your father called the surgical intake desk twenty minutes ago,” she said.

“He wanted to know if you were scheduled for the weekend shift.”