The ringtone on my cell phone jolts me awake at three in the morning. This isn’t too unusual. Even the gentlest sprite can morph into something fearsome after midnight—at least in the imagination. Some people simply can’t—or won’t—wait until morning. Of course, when we inform them that all eradications between the hours of midnight and six a.m. are at double our normal rate, most find a way to embrace the supernatural—at least until the sun comes up.
But the number on the screen is for Springside Long-term Care. My heart thuds, the beat strange and worried, as if no matter how fast it goes, it can’t push enough blood through my veins.
I answer, more dread filling my stomach.
“Katy-Girl,” the caller says, voice low and hushed. “Is that you?”
Only one person, other than my grandmother, h
