My fingers shook as I dialed the number on the card. A young man answered on the second ring. “Grandpa?” he said, already breathless. I told him four blinks. He did not ask me a single question. “Do not move him,” he said. “I am eight minutes away. Tell him Danny is coming, and keep Biscuit away from his arm.” The line went dead. I knelt beside Mr. Hargrove.

His eyes were wet and fixed on mine. “You noticed,” he whispered. “Five months. I never thought anybody would.” I held his cold hand. Headlights swept across the window, and a door slammed outside. Then boots pounded up the porch, and the front door burst open. Danny stood there in a paramedic’s jacket, took one look at me, and said something I did not expect. The full story continues in the first comment.