I looked for my phone, but after searching for half a day, I realized it was probably buried in the snow. I had to ask my junior, who came to visit, to help me buy a new one and get a new card.
When I opened my new phone, Frederick’s call came in. His questioning voice filled the line.
"Sophie, are you serious? I made dozens of calls and sent hundreds of texts and you didn’t reply. What are you throwing a tantrum about now? Didn’t I tell you at the time Lucia had an asthma attack. If she wasn’t taken to the hospital in time, she would have died! You weren’t in any real danger—what was wrong with waiting for the helicopter?"
I calmly let him finish, feeling no emotion inside.
"Well, I know. I didn’t say anything. If you're fine, I'm hanging up."
He rushed to stop me. "Wait, where are you?"
I mumbled, "I’m at the hospital ER and …"
Before I could finish, he interrupted and shouted, "Sophie, can you stop with being dramatic? Is this fun for you? Can you be more like Lucia? Understand a little! I told you I treat her like a sister. You pull this every time and I'm really tired. Let’s both cool down for a bit."