Karl sat on the edge of the worn-out couch, his phone trembling lightly in his hand. In the corner of the dimly lit room, Layla was fast asleep, her small frame curled up tightly in the thin blanket Karl had given her earlier. Her face was still damp with traces of tears, and her breathing was uneven, as if her body was still haunted by nightmares. Outside, the night wind howled fiercely, rattling the cracked window panes. It carried an ominous chill, like a whisper from a future filled with destruction.
Karl closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying his shaking hands. He had been avoiding this call for so long, but there was no other choice now. His thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating for a brief moment before he pressed it. The phone rang twice before a familiar deep voice answered.
"Hello? Karl?"
David's voice carried a hint of surprise, mixed with mild concern. Maybe he wasn't expecting his son to call him at such a late hour.
