There’s more commotion on the other end of the line, and then I hear the very clear voice of Stella whisper-yelling, “Charlie, what in the actual hell?” “What?” he whispers back, phone angled slightly away from his mouth. His voice sounds tinny and far away. “She said get him to the bakehouse.” “She didn’t say give him a heart attack.” “Fine.” His exhale is loud in my ear. “Hey, Caleb? Sorry about that, man. You need to get to the bakehouse. There’s a fire.” “Charlie!”
CHARLIE I'M ON THE FLOOR
