Nine! 911! Yes! That was it, ask her to connect you -
But before she could speak the line click-clicked, disconnected.
"Wait!" she hissed, straining to be both heard and quiet at once.
Dial tone.
A soft knock on the French doors.
She punched the correct sequence into the phone.
The knock again, more loudly now.
She looked outside. The silhouette crouched.
"Woodside Police emergency services. Can I help you?"
"Greta?" His raspy French accent from the terrace.