“Not sure she has those kinds of strings or that Canada would come to your aid,” he says, but his chuckle on the other end of the line is reassuring. I can almost see his crinkled dark eyes and wide smile. “And let’s be clear that I might do it, too, if things don’t turn around.”

“Dad, please,” I say softly. “I just need you to try to help her stay calm.”

“Look, I’ll call your mom, but you can’t worry about her anymore. Take care of yourself and get home safely.”

He makes me promise to check in with him at the next gas station. And informs me he won’t hesitate to call this number back, and maybe the police, if he doesn’t hear from me every couple of hours.

“One more thing, Mira.”

“What’s that?”

“You trust your gut, okay? If you feel unsafe, for any reason, any reason at all, trust it. Just get out of the car at whatever gas station you can get them to stop at. Stay put and stay warm. It might take a while, but we will get you home, so don’t worry about that.”

“Okay.”

“And your mom? She’s going to be fine.”

I resist the urge to disagree with him before we hang up. Dad didn’t see how terrible it got. He didn’t endure the weeks after Phoebe died when Daniel and I would find her in the kitchen in the middle of the night peeling potatoes for no reason. Or standing in the laundry room sweeping the same spot over and over. It was bad.

Bad enough that maybe I should have never left.

I try not to think about how she’ll react to Dad’s call. I try not to imagine her standing in front of the Christmas tree in her bathrobe, with that strange, closed-off expression on her face. Like she’s sleepwalking even though she’s wide awake.

Maybe Dad’s right about her doing better. But what is Christmas supposed to be without Phoebe for us? No more off-key Christmas carols and eating cookie dough straight out of the fridge, salmonella be damned. It’s just…empty.

“Just get me home,” I whisper to no one in particular. “I need to get home.”

It’s as close to a prayer as I’ve uttered in a long time, and there’s a faint layer of desperation in my tone.