The screeching cry of a vulture from my dream transforms into a ring, vibrating on the night table beside me. I reach across it as it rings again, knocking over an empty wine glass before my fingers find the phone with an urge to make the noise stop. The glowing blue 2: 01 on my alarm clock comes into focus, and a flutter rises from my chest to my throat.

Something’s wrong. Who would call this late?

I work to clear the lump in my throat as I grip the receiver.

Something’s happened....