The phone call kept me awake all night.Family
It came a little after one in the morning, when the house was finally still and the only sound inside our bedroom was the old ceiling fan clicking once every full turn as if it had a private complaint it refused to let go of. I remember the darkness very clearly. I remember the pale line of moonlight on the wardrobe door. I remember the shape of my husband sleeping beside me, one hand resting over the blanket, his breathing slow
and fragile and hard-earned. And I remember the voice.
It was







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