Chapter 1: The Static on the Line
I answered with a distracted, “Hello?”
The boardroom of my downtown firm was humming with the low, sterile drone of corporate strategy. Spreadsheets bled across the glowing projector screen, and twelve expectant faces waited for me to dissect the quarterly projections. I had my pen poised over a legal pad, ready to dismantle a flawed marketing budget.
For one agonizing second, there was only static on the line. Just the faint, hollow rustle of movement, like someone fumbling with a receiver in the dark.
Then, a voice. Tight, raspy with exhaustion, and terrifyingly small.
“Dad?”
I was on my feet before my conscious brain fully registered the sound. My knee clipped the edge of the mahogany table, sending a tremor through the room, but I didn’t feel it. “Micah? Why are you calling me from a different number? Where’s your mother?”
My six-year-old son sniffed hard. It was that specific, ragged intake of breath children use when they are trying to be brave, usually because they’ve been forced to be brave for far too long.
“Dad… Elsie won’t wake up right.” His voice cracked. “She keeps sleeping and she feels really hot. Mom isn’t here. We don’t have anything left to eat.”
The conference room, the spreadsheets, the million-dollar projections—they instantly vaporized. The universe shrank to the dimensions of that phone speaker. I shoved my chair backward so violently it crashed into the wall. A coworker jumped, eyes wide, but I offered no explanation. I didn’t apologize. I didn’t grab my coat. I snatched my car keys and sprinted for the glass doors.
While sprinting down the corridor toward the elevator, I dialed Delaney.
Straight to voicemail.
I slammed my palm against the elevator button and called again.
Voicemail.
A cold, metallic dread began to coat the back of my throat. By the time I reached the concrete belly of the parking garage, my pulse was hammering against my ribs with the force of a trapped bird. My hands shook so badly I scratched the door of my sedan trying to get the key in.
