I was halfway through my second cup of coffee when my phone rang.
I didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was. No one in this family called this early unless something was wrong or about to be.
I answered anyway.
"Yes, Grandpa."
"Come to the house," he said. No greeting, as usual. "Today."
I sat back in my chair, already tired. "Is this about the news this morning ?"
Silence on the line for a second. Then, "You're needed here. Don't be late."
The call ended.
I stared at my phone for a long moment before dropping it onto the table. My stomach felt hollow, like it always did after conversations with him. Short. Final and unavoidable.
Lucas was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching me like he already knew.
"He called," he said.
I nodded. "I'm supposed to go over."
His jaw tightened. "I'll come with you."
"You can't," I said quietly.
He scoffed. "Watch me."
