I almost didn’t answer.

The phone kept vibrating in my hand, Emma’s name bright on the screen. For a second I considered letting it go to voicemail. Then the guilt of even thinking made me accept the call.

Emma’s face filled the screen, smiling, a little sunburned, sitting in what looked like a campus common room.

“Finally,” she said. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“Sorry. Just woke up.” My voice sounded almost normal. I angled the phone so the background stayed generic — plain wall, nothing that would show I was still in the guest room of her house.

“How’s everything there? Dad being weird? He...