I heard my daughter whisper "I miss you, Daddy" on the phone – I buried her father 18 years ago

I put my hand on the wall for support. Susie turned, saw me, and hung up so quickly that the receiver fell back onto the cradle.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked cautiously.

He didn't want to meet my gaze.

“Wrong number,” he said before running upstairs.

I stayed there for a long time, my heart pounding and my mind racing.

Wrong number? No.