Once.

You roll over, pulling the blanket tighter.

Twice. Three times. The buzzing doesn't stop—it rattles across the surface like something frantic, desperate.

You reach out blindly, hand slapping against the wood before your fingers close around the cold glass.

The screen lights up, blinding in the darkness of your room.

Your thumb hovers over the screen. You swipe to answer before you can talk yourself out of it.

Silence stretches for a long moment. Just the sound of breathing on the other end. Ragged. Unsteady.

Then—