The Voice on the Line
My whole body started trembling. For one impossibly fragile second, standing alone on that porch in the dark, it felt exactly like Helen was reaching out to me from somewhere I could never follow her to.
Hands shaking so hard I nearly dropped the phone twice, I called the number back.
A young woman answered almost instantly, crying hard enough that I could barely make out her words at first. “Dad? Dad, where are you? Please, I need help.”
I had to swallow before I could get anything out. “I’m not your father,” I said, as gently as I could manage. “Who are you trying to reach?”
