3:07 AM. The clock on the nightstand glowed a muted red.

Then the phone buzzed. Once. Twice. A third time, insistent and sharp against the wood.

Y/n rolled over, groaning, hand fumbling across the nightstand. The screen was too bright, searing into half-open eyes. An unfamiliar number. Unknown caller. The kind of call that was never good news at this hour.

They almost didn't answer.

They really, really should have listened to that instinct.