That, she was sure of. Bells. Ringing. Her brain struggled to make sense of the sounds until she gradually woke from a very sound sleep and realized her cell phone was ringing. A quick peek at it through one squinted eye told her it was barely 5 AM. The number was international, and she groaned, but then cleared her throat and hit the green button. “Hi, Dad.” “Emmy! My sweet girl. How are you? Are you okay? I just heard. I’m so sorry.” Fredrik Rosberg spoke quickly, his accent barely detectable. Emerson was constantly amazed by the quality of English they spoke in Sweden. In all of Scandinavia, really. His English was better than hers. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m okay.” “Are you in Lake Henry?” “Yes. Where it’s 4:53 in the morning.” “Oh, for god’s sake.
