The phone rang once.
Then twice.
Then three times.
Each ring felt louder than it should've been, sharp and intrusive in the otherwise still room. The sound didn't fade immediately after each buzz—it lingered, echoing faintly against the walls, as if the silence itself was reluctant to swallow it whole. The call didn't connect right away. Instead, the ringing dragged on, long enough that I briefly wondered if she'd just let it ring out of spite.
After about six rings, someone finally picked up.
"Hello?" came a groggy, half-dead voice on the other end.
"Hello, Natalia?" I said calmly. "Where are you right now?"
"I'm sleeping," she replied instantly, without even pretending to think about it. "Can you not call me while I'm resting?"
I almost laughed.
