The first text came in at 5:04 am. “Call me ASAP,” an old friend wrote, followed by questions she had about which rehab she should go to when she was discharged in two days.
“I’m spinning,” she texted. “Help.”
She was a dear friend. I fixed a quick cup of coffee and went out to call her from my car so I wouldn’t wake the kids. The street was completely quiet, the air cold.
In the dark, your mind can go to dark places.
This was not the first time, by any means, that I had received an after-hours text or call. I know now not to pick up, unless I’m on-call for a client, but this was a friend.
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