At 1:00 a.m., Diana Grayson woke to the violent buzzing of her phone on the wooden nightstand, a sound so sharp it sliced straight through the heavy silence of her bedroom. For one disoriented second, she stared into the darkness, her heart thudding hard against her ribs, already certain that no good news had ever arrived at that hour.
Beside her, Luke slept on his stomach with one arm flung over the pillow, breathing evenly, untouched by the sound. He could sleep through thunderstorms, car alarms, and the chaos of the world, but Diana had never learned that kind of peace, not after a lifetime of being the person everyone called when something went wrong.
The screen glowed in her hand with a name that sent a familiar chill through her. Mom flashed across the display, and even before Diana answered, she felt that old tightening in her chest, the one that had followed her from childhood into adulthood like a private curse.
“Mom?” she whispered, pushing herself upright so quickly the blanket tangled around her legs. “What happened?”
The voice that came through was Patricia’s, but stretched thin with panic, frayed like fabric pulled too hard at the seams. “Diana, honey, oh my God, listen to me, we need twenty thousand dollars right now.”
Diana’s breath caught so fast it hurt. She swung her feet to the floor, the cold hardwood grounding her for only half a second before dread rushed through her body again. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “Why would you need twenty thousand dollars at one in the morning?”
“It’s Travis,” Patricia cried, her words tumbling over sobs. “He’s in the emergency room and they won’t treat him unless we pay first.”
