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I cup my throat.It wasn't a dream.Her voicemail is from nine this morning, asking me if I'm really not going to show up at work, and that she gets it if I don't, I'm not obligated to face my boss just so he can fire me in front of a crowd.

That call was five hours ago. It's almost two in the afternoon; she should still be at work. I dial quickly, putting the phone to my ear. Wondering what, exactly, I'll tell her, I listen to it ring.

Her voicemail picks up, beeping loudly. “Hey Sonya,” I say, sounding way too chipper. I clear my throat and bring it down a notch. “Just calling so you don't worry about me. I'm not coming back into work... well, ever, I guess. Some things happened. Big, crazy stuff. Anyway, call me when you can. But I'm fine. So... yeah.”

I end the call, the silence around me more notable than before.I told her I'm fine, but I'm not.God, what will I say when she calls back? How do I phrase my new job in a way that won't make her panic? Sonya is stubborn, she'll assault me with questions until I give her the truth. I'llhaveto tell her eventually.

Eventually.

That's the keyword. For now... I can think in tiny steps.

And I already know what I'm supposed to do next.

It's time for that bath.