The next morning, Micah was dragged out of sleep by a sharp, piercing ringtone that cut straight through the quiet room. The sound felt louder than usual, like it was ringing inside his skull. His body was heavy, his mind still foggy, but his hand groped across the bedside table until his fingers knocked against his phone. He grabbed it clumsily and brought it to his ear, eyes still closed.
"Hello…" he muttered, voice rough and hoarse with sleep.
"Son, can you come to the hospital?" Jacob's voice came through the line, low and strained.
Micah's eyes flew open instantly. All traces of sleep vanished. He pushed himself upright, heart already pounding for a reason he didn't want to guess.
"Dad? What happened?" His voice tightened without him meaning it to.
There was a brief silence on the other end, the kind that said everything before words even came.
"It's your grandma."
