Sometimes, when the house is quiet and the hallway light glows under their bedroom doors, I think about that phone lighting up beside my bed. I think about how close I came to letting it ring.

Then I walk down the hall. I check the doors. I listen to them breathe.

And every time, I hear Ellen’s voice in my memory, steady as ever.

Promise me nobody uses them for money.

I promised.

It took one phone call at 1:58 a.m. to understand what that promise really meant.

THE END.