At eleven o'clock I get the call, Claire's sleeping soundly next to me her chest rising and falling in a steady motion completely unaware of the horrible news that the doctor is relaying to me on the phone.
Claire's parents are dead, it was a head on collision, the driver was a cop. Working a double homicide, and he hadn't slept in two days. He had an asthma attack when he was driving and he reached for his inhaler on the dashboard. He grabbed his gun instead; blew his brains out. The officer died instantly, running a red light and crashing into a car waiting for the turn signal.
The people in that car waiting for the turn signal were Claire's parents. Her father got the bulk of the crash, dying on impact. Her mother hit her head on the glove box, and the airbags bruised a few ribs. The impaired bones made it hard to breath, and the concussion made her lose consciousness. She stopped breathing in the ambulance.
I hang up the phone numbly on the receiver, and quietly slip out from under the covers trying not to wake Claire. She doesn't need to hear this, not yet.
I quietly pad down the stairs, taking my cell phone out of my bag and dial Quil's number. "Hello." he answers groggily.
"Quil," I hiss, "it's Leah. Listen, I have to go to the hospital. Now. I need you to come to Claire's house and look after her. Quil, her parents are dead."
I hear the phone clatter to the floor, there's a loud shuffling noise and a few stray profanities before Quil speaks again; his words come out in a rush, "What happened? Is she okay? Did you tell her yet? Who's going to take care of her--"
"I am." I say confidently, "She's asleep. I haven't told her yet. She doesn't need to know, not now. Quil, she needs you."
He takes a deep breath and agrees telling me he'll be there in five minutes time. I close the small sliver phone and tap my foot impatiently. Two minutes later, Quil almost bust the door off it's hinges and quickly rushes upstairs to Claire.
It's going to be a long night.