"Aren't you sick?" My sister asks me, confused as I walk into her house, bringing presents for her kid's 5th birthday.
"What do you mean?"
"I just talked to you on the phone. You said you were in bed with the flu," she says slowly, like she would with a small child. "You couldn't make it to Oliver's birthday party and asked me to wish him a happy birthday."
"I've been out with my friends the whole day, picking out a present for him" I say just as slowly. My sister's face goes white.
"Then whose number is this?" she says shakily.
As soon as she presses to call, a phone starts ringing in the attic.