The pitch-black of the room told her that morning had not come. The clock confirmed her fears. It was three in the morning. Phone calls at this hour were either dire news or horribly distressing wrong numbers. With her heart racing, she picked up her phone. “Hello?” “Is this Dodie Chase?” Dodie’s hands shook. “Yes.” Her parents had been killed in a car accident when she was a child and she’d gone to live with her grandparents, who were both gone now too, from old age. She had no siblings—no relatives at all who would need to reach her at this hour. This could only mean one person had been harmed—Mindy. “We’re calling from Seton South West hospital. Your friend Mindy is here and we need you to come down right away.” She’d already gotten out of the bed, a million predictions flowing through her mind. Car accident, drunk driver, slip and fall. “I’m on my way. Tell her I’m coming. What happened? What is her condition?” Where were her shoes? Where the hell were her shoes?
