Erasing You from My Emergency Contact
Language: en
By the time the rescue crew dragged me out of Sub-Level 3 beneath the flooded shopping complex, Denis was blowing out candles for his childhood best friend’s birthday. My phone screen was pitch-black, waterlogged beyond saving. Out of seventeen desperate emergency calls I had tried to make, only one message had received a reply. At two in the morning, his text had read: "Your GPS puts you at a hotel downtown. Stop making a scene." When I woke up in the emergency room, the nurse dialed his number and put it on speaker. In the background, voices were singing "Happy Birthday." "What does she…