The call woke Rupert Giles from a sound sleep. In fact, if he wasn't so used to Buffy calling him in a panic, he would never have answered the phone at all.
"Hello?" The greeting came out slightly garbled.
He wasn't expecting the response. "Giles, the cops called yesterday. And then the social worker came and I just now managed to convince her to let me call someone. I told her that prisoners get one phone call, and I'm not a prisoner so I should be able to make as many phone calls as I want. She said that by the same logic, she didn't have to let me make any at all and…" His Slayer's string of babble died away into gasping sobs.
"Buffy, what did the police tell you?" He chose to start with the first thing she'd said.
"They said…" she gasped for air, "They said…" more sobs, "there'd been an accident." The last word was a wail.
"What type of accident?" Something told him that he wasn't going to like the response.
"A car accident," she barely managed to get the words out. "In L.A. Some stupid kid got plastered and a little high, and then…" She paused to get her emotions under control. "A pile up, the officer said. A stupid pile up and I thought the worst. Only…It was worse than my worst could have been."
She was crying again, and Giles could feel a horrible suspicion forming. "What happened?" He wanted to say more, but he had the feeling that someone was listening in on their conversation.
"My mom…she went to the art show, remember?" He could feel his stomach greet his feet at that moment. "She was driving back…" Her voice broke.
"Dear Lord." His slayer was unconventional; that was how he knew this loss had the potential to break her.
"That's not all, Giles." She finally pulled herself together, too conscious of her younger cousin watching her. She had to be strong, she reminded herself.
"I want it to be more than coincidence. I don't believe in coincidence," she whispered. "But it's just the luck of the draw, isn't it? My mom's…" she choked again before reminding herself to be strong. "She's gone, and Aunt Helen and Uncle Will…They were driving back to their house…"
"Aunt Helen and Uncle Will," he repeated. "That would be your mother's twin sister and her husband…they also…" He wasn't any more certain he could say it. "They also…died?"
She watched Luke again; he was scribbling something on a piece of paper. For all she knew, she was watching another Einstein at work. "Yeah, G-Man."
"Don't call me that." For some reason, her attempt at levity actually worked. "Why call me?"
"They said a family member or close family friend could take care of us, all of us including my cousins, until the will is read and a permanent guardian is decided."
"I'll be there as soon as I can."