Morgue

Her phone was ringing in her pocket. Ella couldn’t ignore it, even though now seemed like an awful time to take a phone call. Aunt Genevieve was sitting next to her, bawling again, and Henry was trying to navigate driving in LA, which wasn’t all that easy for natives, let alone visitors. Ella wanted to just sit there and be quiet, but when she saw it was Bart calling, she had to take the call.

“Hello,” she said, her voice soft and serious.