(Don’t go home tnght.)

The text buzzed into my phone, covering part of the map that was already leading me to my apartment.

I stared at the text until the notification left. Slowly, I pulled over to the side of the road, unsure what to do.

(Why?)

No response. I didn’t recognize the number, either. My fingers, slick with sweat, tapped the keyboard on my phone, continuing to question the anonymous person.

Finally, I settled on calling. The hoarse voice that responded to me chilled me to the bone.

“I do care about you, honey. This is all because I care about you.”

I think I made some sort of noise, words that never fully came out of my throat. I thought I cut off contact with her years ago…

“Ma? No…” I choked. “What- what are you talking about?”

An almost-silence reached my ears, a staticky sort of noise echoing in the background of the call.

“I just… I just want you back,” she whispered faintly. “Don’t go home.”

Ma. I didn’t think I’d ever hear that torturous voice again. That manipulating, gaslighting voice. I had moved in with Dad, and then blocked her on all platforms.

“Why?” I meant this as in why is she how she is? why is she texting me? why is she telling me not to go home?

“I can’t say, darling, but I love you. Know that.”

It didn’t seem that way, I thought.

Suddenly I smelled something. It was a distant smell, but I caught it on the wind. Something a bit familiar- then I realized.

Smoke.

I slowly crept towards the smell, still listening to my ma mumble meaningless phrases. I lowered the volume so her voice was just a small buzzing in my mind.

Then I saw it. A giant plume of smoke, coming off the top of a building. Red and orange sparkled in the windows and screams rang out along the road. Firefighters skirted the buildings, hauling out limp bodies.

I recognized a few faces. Some, however, were too charred and burned to discern.

“Dad,” I whispered as I watched firefighters carrying him out.

“It was for the best,” Ma mumbled. “Now you can come back to me.”

I turned and ran.