She answered a phone call from her own number. It was the middle of the night, and she was content to let it ring; how many times had she received a scam call apparently from her own number? She had lost count, but at least a dozen. That's why she honestly could not tell you why she picked up. Perhaps it was because it was so early in the morning; she had told Jeremy that he could call her any time and she would come pick him up. It was better that he explain to her why he couldn't drive his car home than she be forced to figure out why he tried to. She would do anything for that boy. It could have been because she knew she would never get back to sleep if she was wondering who was calling her so late. It could even have been a completely ineffable feeling she got that her phone was buzzing more urgently than usual, like it sensed the desperation of the caller. It was likely the last reason that she finally made the decision to pick it up. "Hello," she intoned groggily. "This had better be important."

"Hannah? Is this Hannah?" The voice on the other end of the phone sounded winded, desperate, not a little bit raspy, and slightly confused.

"Yes..." she said warily, unsure of what she was dealing with.

"... go... work tomorrow... defendant... building..." Between the static and the heavy, raspy breathing of the caller, she couldn't make out the rest before the call dropped.

"Hello? Hello? Who is this?" The abrupt silence was even more jarring than the sudden phone call that woke her up. Unsure of what to do, she called the number back, wondering what would happen, but as was to be expected, she got her own voice mail. With a growing sense of disquiet, she put her phone back on the nightstand. Why did that voice on the other end sound so familiar, yet so strange? Worried, she rolled out of bed and silently started walking down the hall to check on Jeremy. She was relieved when halfway down the hall, she could hear him snoring like any other teenager. He was safe and sound, but whoever was on the phone didn't sound that way. Reluctantly, Hannah went back to bed and tried to get back to sleep.

Who could it possibly have been? It sounded like whoever it was tried to discourage her from showing up to work in the morning. Right, as if that was an option. Did they just want her exhausted? A distintc possibility. Leave it to that slimy defense attorney, Walter Fennetry, Esq, to pull a prank like this the night before Hannah was about to close on the biggest case of her career. This kind of chicanery was not uncommon, and a few attorneys had been disbarred over the course of Hannah's career. It was with a titanic display of her willpower that forced such thoughts from her mind and she drifted off to a fitful sleep.


6:00 am came way too early, waking Hannah up feeling tired, but no worse for the wear. Professional excitement was enough to eclipse her exhaustion as well as her moral outrage at what happened last night – that morning. Hannah groaned. It was going to be a long day. After breakfast, featuring an extra shot of espresso in her coffee, Hannah made it to the courthouse in one piece, even as her outrage grew with each passing building. Entering the courthouse, Hannah went through the motions of presenting her ID to the receptionist the way she had every day on her way in. "Hey Hannah, another exciting day in the office? Word on the street is you may be able to get Henry to roll over on his boss. Good luck!"

"Mmm. Sounds good."

"Girl, what has gotten into you? I've never seen you this distracted."

Coming to her senses, Hannah finally noticed that her friend was talking to her. "Oh sorry Betty, I just had a bad night is all. Prank phone call at 2:30 in the morning. Tired."

"Sorry to hear that. Get in there and get your slam dunk. I'll see you when it's over."

"Thanks, Betty. And sorry again."

Barely able to keep a lid on her anger, Hannah took her position next to her client and began courtroom proceedings. Walter, to his credit, seemed to have the self control to pretend that nothing had happened. Or was he innocent? Well, innocent was a pretty strong word to bandy about someone like Walter Fennetry, but not guilty of the phone call? Were her istincts completely off base? It would not do at all to make a baseless accusation. Giving her head a shake, Hannah realized that the judge, The Right Honorable George Frazer, had asked her a question.

"Present, Your Honor," was the automatic reply.

"Good. Then lets proceed."


After a morning of intense questioning and cross examination, the judge had called a recess for lunch. Hannah had grabbed Betty and took her out to a nearby coffee shop for lunch.

"Wow, Hannah. That's rough. And you're sure it was Walter? How did he disguise the call as coming from your own number?"

"I can't be sure, but who else could it be other than one of his associates? He knows that we're closing in on the supplier, and with a little more coaxing, we can get Henry to finger him. I'm pretty sure this is just one of is underhanded tricks, but I can't prove anything. I'm sure the firm can investigate and we'll get to the bottom of it, but for now I'm just frazzled. There was just something about the voice on the other end that sounded familiar, but I can't quite place it. I'm pretty sure it was a woman, but her voice was raspy and hard to hear. It sounded like she was in some kind of distress."

Betty looked at her friend with a mixture of concern and a small amount of sympathy. "That's a genuine mystery. If I were you, I'd put it out of my mind for now. You have a case to win, and dwelling on it isn't doing you any favors."

Heaving a sigh, Hannah said "let's change the subject, because I have some good news. Jeremy got accepted into Yale. My boy's going to be a lawyer."

"That's so exciting! It's every parent's dream that their kid follows in their footsteps."

"Yeah it is. Personally, I'll be happy if he grows up enjoying what he does with himself."

Betty smiled. "You raised him well, Hannah. You should be proud."

"I am." Hannah sighed heavily. "Better get back to it."

"I guess it's that time. See you around."


After lunch, Hannah was in a better mood. She had resolved to get to the bottom of the phone call and figure out where it came from, but to put it on the back burner for now. It didn't help that Walter looked like he slept like a baby. Such a weird expression, slept like a baby. Like he woke up 3 times in the middle of the night screaming for a bottle? Hannah chuckled to herself. At any rate, he gave absolutely no sign of having lost sleep or smugness in having tried to sabotage her case. By the late afternoon, Hannah was on the verge of successfully convincing the defendant that his case was hopeless. By the time she went home that night, she expected to have found the grounds to offer one last deal to his counsel: give up the name of his supplier in exchange for a reduced sentence. Just as she was gearing up to deliver the killing blow, Hannah was interrupted by the ringing of the fire alarm. Everyone in the room groaned. It looked like everyone was having the same thought: "Really? A fire drill?" That thought came to an end when the doors to the courtroom burst open. Betty came into the room, talking loud enough to be heard, almost shouting "Bomb in the building! This is not a drill! There's a bomb in the parking garage! Everyone evacuate!" Judge Frazer banged his gavel and shouted "order! Order in the court," but to no avail; widespread panic had set in. In their haste to get to the door, someone pushed past Hannah and knocked her over. It was all she could do to avoid getting trampled in the stampede; she curled up in a ball and prayed for protection. Just as she dared look up and begin standing up, all hell broke loose.

She had never been in an explosion before, and before her mind even had a chance to register what was happening, she found herself crushed between fallen rubble and the roof of a car in the parking garage. After a few attempts to move the rubble, she realized the futility; even if she could get her leg unstuck, it was undoubtedly broken. She did the only thing she could think of, pulling her phone out of her purse and dialling 911. Her expectation that she would hear the operator pick up was quickly shattered when she heard something that sounds like the loud random static that comes when you accidentally dial a fax machine. She was just about to give up on the call and hang up when she heard a groggy voice say "Hello? This had better be important."

Taken aback, Hannah stared at her phone for a few seconds, confused as to how something like this coud happen. "Hannah? Is this Hannah?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was this an opportunity to warn herself?

"...yes."

"Hannah! Do not come into work tomorrow! Henry, the defendant, brought a bomb into the building. Call the police and get them to do a sweep of the parking garage! Hello? Hello?" Hannah realized that the call had dropped. As she began moving her phone around looking for a renewed signal, another section of the ceiling collapsed. The last thought she had before losing consciousness was "oh god, I hope Jeremy is ok."