The phone was ringing. He stumbled downstairs. “Hello?” he said to the phone once he had found it. He wasn’t fully awake yet. His only goal was to get the phone to stop ringing, and saying hello was how he got it to stop. “Hello, my heart,” said his mother. For one strange moment Gabe thought it was the Envoy on the phone. But the two of them didn’t really sound the same, even though both used the same voice with the same accent. The rhythm was different. The Envoy’s words were clipped, separate, and specific. Everything Mom said moved like water, flowing downstream from wherever it started to wherever it needed to be. “Hi, Mom,” said Gabe. “I need you to do something for me,” she said with a hitch and a stumble in her voice—or maybe that was just crackling on the phone connection. “I need you to get a few diapers and wipes together. And pajamas for the twins. Toss all that in a bag.” “Okay,” said Gabe. In his grogginess this sounded only slightly odd. “What’s going on?”
