YOUR SISTER TOLD YOU TO HIDE IN THE ATTIC AND NOT TELL YOUR HUSBAND—THEN YOU FOUND THE PASSPORTS UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS

We need to talk.”

You don’t move.

The attic is freezing. Dust clings to your knees. Rain taps faintly against the roof. Your eyes scan for anything useful—Christmas boxes, old frames, a broken lamp, Noah’s baby swing, a plastic bin labeled TAXES.

Your phone is still dark in your hand.

Then it buzzes once.

Impossible.

You nearly drop it.

The screen lights continue reading …