Page 78 of Mile High Daddy

Because I know?—

I won’t be able to sleep.

And I won’t be able to stop this feeling growing in my gut.

Something is wrong.

And I think?—

I think I’m running out of time.

I don’t sleep.

I sit in my dimly lit apartment, curled up on the couch with my phone in my hands, staring at the screen as if I can will my mother to text me back.

Nothing.

I try to distract myself—picking up a book, watching the flickering streetlights outside, even turning on the TV at low volume. But my mind is a restless storm, circling the same thought over and over again.

She’s gone.

And it’s my fault.

I rub my stomach absentmindedly, a small movement that has become second nature. The babies shift inside me, and the reminder makes my throat tighten.

I can’t justwait.

What if she’s trying to reach me? What if she lost her phone? What if she’s stranded somewhere? The what-ifs claw at me, scraping away my common sense.

I reach for my phone and do the one thing I told myself I wouldn’t do.

I call her.

Not on our usual burner number, but on her real number.

The one she never uses anymore.

The one I know is dangerous.

I hit call.

The line rings.

And rings.

And then?—

Aclick.

My heart leaps into my throat. “Mom?”

A long, dragging silence.

I swallow hard. “Mom, if you’re there?—”

Breathing.

Slow. Even.

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