When I saw Danny’s name on the screen, my heart lurched. My grandson never called at this hour. Never.

“Grandma?” His voice was barely a whisper, trembling like a candle flame in the wind.

“Danny, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Grandma, please. You have to listen to me.” There was something in his tone that made my blood run cold. Fear mixed with a terrible urgency. “Don’t wear your red coat today. Please.”

I glanced at the coat rack where my cherry-red winter coat hung. I’d bought it three years ago, a splurge I justified because it made me visible on the dark rural roads. Safe.