The phone kept ringing.
Ben reached for it.
I pulled it away.
“No.”
“Don’t answer.”
“If he suspects something, ignoring him will make it worse.”
“Claire.”
I pressed the green icon.
“Dad?”
“Sweetheart.” His voice was warm and tired. “How is she?”
I looked at Ben.
“She survived.”
A pause.
Only half a second.
Still, I heard it.
“Thank God,” my father said.
“The twins are alive too.”
“Thank God,” he repeated.
This time there was no hesitation.
“Where are you?”
“At home. I couldn’t sit in that hospital. Too many memories.”
My mother had been taken to that same hospital after they recovered her body.
