Every Friday at exactly 3:03 am, my phone rings.
Same number. No caller ID. No ringtone, just a soft hum, the kind that buzzes straight through your ribs.
And it’s always—Always—my brother’s voice.
The only thing is, he had been dead.
A year ago, my brother had allegedly died in a car accident, only his body was never recovered.
That’s when the calls started happening. And every time I answe...
