I had some help

Sixty

Morgan woke to the sharp trill of his phone, the sound cutting through the stillness of the early morning. Groggy, he squinted at the glowing numbers on his nightstand-6:30 AM. Too early for anyone to be calling. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached for his phone, blinking to clear the blur.

His heart jolted when he saw the name on the screen: Amelia Wilson

Morgan shot up, suddenly wide awake. Amelia had never called him before, not once. Their relationship had always been cordial, but distant. For her to be calling him now, something had to be wrong. His mind raced as he fumbled to accept the call, a wave of anxiety prickling at his neck.

"Hello?" He said, voice rough, his heart already pounding.

"Morgan." Amelia's voice was tight, barely holding it together. There was something unspoken underneath it, something heavy. A cold shiver ran down Morgan's spine.

"Amelia?" His mouth was dry. "Is everything okay?"

A long pause hung on the line, and Morgan's stomach twisted in the silence. He could hear her breath catch before she spoke again, this time in a rush of words, thick with emotion.

"It's Alex. She's in the hospital, Morgan. They rushed her in early this morning."

"The hospital?" Morgan echoed, his thoughts stumbling over themselves. "Why is she in the hospital? What happened?"

Another pause, heavier this time. Morgan gripped the phone, bracing himself for whatever was coming.

"Michael's tour bus flipped into the forest." Amelia said, her voice cracking. "That's all we know right now. Jack and I are on our way to the hospital. We're almost there."

Morgan's mind went blank, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a punch to the chest. Alex had been on Michael's tour bus.

Without thinking, Morgan jumped out of bed. "I'm on my way!" He blurted, already halfway to his closet, frantically grabbing clothes-anything that would get him out the door faster. His fingers fumbled as he pulled on a hoodie and sweatpants, his heart pounding harder with every passing second.

He hung up and rushed to Indigo's room. His two-year-old was fast asleep, peaceful and unaware of the chaos that had just upended Morgan's world. Morgan gently scooped him up, cradling him as he quickly dressed Indigo in something warm before hurrying downstairs to the car.

Once they were buckled in, Morgan pulled out his phone, his hand shaking slightly as he scrolled through his contacts. He had to call Caleigh-there was no way she didn't know about the crash by now. He needed answers, needed to hear her voice, to understand what was happening.

Morgan's hands tightened around the steering wheel as he waited for Caleigh to answer. Every second felt like an eternity, the buzzing of the phone echoing louder in his ears than the engine's hum. The morning light streamed through the windshield, but everything felt dim, muted by the fear that had settled deep in his chest.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the call connected.

"Morgan?" Caleigh's voice came through, but it was shaky, fragile. She knew.

"Caleigh." Morgan's voice cracked, "What's going on?"

There was a pause on the other end, the kind of pause that carries the weight of bad news. Morgan held his breath, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel.

"I don't know yet." Caleigh whispered, her voice breaking. "I only just heard. It's bad, Morgan. The crash... they're still assessing everyone, but Alex-she's in critical condition. They're doing everything they can, they said she moved too much after the crash and it worsened her condition. They said Michael is injured but not terribly."