I held that phone against the lid of my own coffin, and one bar flickered on, and I have never since believed that any darkness is as total or as final as the people who make it want you to think.

Chapter 9 — Nine-One-One

I dialed the three numbers.

The line clicked, hissed with static, and then a voice broke through.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“Listen to me,” I gasped, keeping it low to save the air.

“My name is Hannah Pembroke.

My two sons and I were declared dead today, but we are alive, and we’ve been buried.