The phone rang.
Each tone rattled inside my ribcage. Once. Twice.
Three times.
Then, a click.
“Hello?”
Her voice hadn’t changed. Thin. Cool.
I swallowed. My throat burned. “Mom. It’s... it’s Gideon.”
A beat of silence stretched too long.
“Oh.” That was it? Justoh. NotGideon, my God, is it really youor evenit’s been three years;where have you been?
“I... I was just calling to check in. See how you and Dad are doing.”
A sound, like a breath caught and forcibly exhaled. “We’re fine.”
Fine.
That word. Meaningless. Empty. Like the house I left behind in Oregon.
Dennis whined softly, brushing against my leg. I sank to a crouch, running my hand over his head while my other clutched the phone like it might disappear.
“Good. That’s… good.” My voice sounded like it was underwater.
Silence. Long and awkward, filled only by the wind and the quiet creak of the shed. Dennis pressed his nose briefly to my knee before settling again. I scratched behind his ear, grounding myself in that small act of care.
“I’m in Foggy Basin, California,” I said, just to say something. “It’s a little town. Rural. Kind of peaceful.”
Still, nothing. Not even a noise of acknowledgment.
My chest pulled tight. “Yeah. I’ll be here for a while. Helping out with—never mind.”
Another silence. This one sharper. I pushed past it.
I licked my lips. They were dry. “Do you… do you remember what today is?”
I heard her sharp inhale of breath over the line. “How could you call today, of all days to remind me? You. Are. Awful.”
You are awful. Those three words punched through me like she’d flung them from a great height.
My breath whooshed out of my body. “Mom?—”
“How dare you. Bringing this up.Todayof all days. You have no heart.”
That wasn’t true.
My heart was breaking right now.
“I didn’t call to hurt you,” I said, even though I didn’t owe her that explanation.
“Of course not. You already destroyed this family.”
“I didn’t—” My breath hitched. “It was an accident. Itried?—”