My?

My thigh vibrates, “What’s going on, Jeremy?”

I stare at my dad’s message.

We haven’t talked in three weeks, not since I missed his birthday dinner.

I heave up and sigh, swiping the code.

I scroll up through our conversation history …nothing.

Just his contact name and this message, like our entire relationship got wiped clean, except for this one question.

I blink.

I type back: “What do you mean?” Shaking my head.

The second I hit send, he’s already typing.

Three dots.

They flicker. Stop. Start again.

Then my boss.

Then Alexandra.

Then Kevin.

Traci.

Luke.

Mom.

My lungs forget their job.

“Are you okay?”

“Please take a deep breath.”

“I’m coming over.”

My dog is barking through my phone.

Someone’s calling me?

I look down.

Pilot is sitting at my feet.

My arm shakes as I raise it to my face.

“Mom?” I whisper in a stutter.

“Hey, babe. Why are you whispering?”

My husband’s voice.

“UAAHHH!!! UUU*-*” My screeching baby.

My?!