The Statue Game
Language: en
I’d been dead for four days, my body a statue of ice in a cabin buried by a blizzard. But my five-year-old daughter, Annie, thought I was just playing a game of Statues. Starving, she’d started gnawing on an expired sausage stick. Using the last bar of battery on my phone, she dialed the only number in my contacts. The call connected, and Lynn’s impatient voice barked through the speaker. "Ethan, if you're calling to make excuses or beg, don't bother." Annie clutched the phone, the plastic wrapper still in her mouth, her words muffled by sobs. "Mommy, Daddy's been playing Statues for three…