The call came in the same way it always did. “911, what’s your emergency?” A long pause followed before a frail voice finally answered, “I need someone.” No fire, no break-in, no medical crisis. Just three quiet words. The strange part was that the same elderly woman called almost every night, usually around the same time.
Eventually, the dispatchers began sending me. I was a police officer, and I drove to her address prepared to explain the consequences of repeatedly using emergency services without an emergency. But when I arrived, the porch light was already glowing. A 91-year-old woman opened the door wearing a neatly pressed dress, a strand of pearls, and a welcoming smile. She looked as though she had been expecting a special guest. Before I could deliver my carefully rehearsed speech, she stepped aside and asked a question that completely caught me off guard.
“Oh good, you’re here. Tea?”
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