The phone buzzed twice, went quiet, then buzzed once more, and the number on the screen was one I’d never saved.

I picked up anyway, and my son’s voice came through so faintly that I pressed the phone tight against my other ear.

“Dad. It’s me, Micah.” “Micah. Where’s your mom?” He went right past that question.

He said Elsie was hot when he touched her and wouldn’t drink her juice.

He said her breathing sounded weird. “How long has she been this way, buddy?”

“Dad, Elsie won’t wake up right and we haven’t had anything to eat in three days.”

I sat straight up. The clock on the nightstand read 2:14.

My work shirt still hung folded over the chair after fourteen hours at the office.

“Three days without food.” “Uh-huh. There’s cereal, but the box is empty.” “Micah, where is your mother?”

“She went to the mountains.