His phone buzzed. "Hi, Uncle Wendy. I’ll be home around three instead of eight. I’m taking an earlier flight... No, I’ll make my own way home...  Really, it’s fine. I miss you too. I have to go. I’m at the ticket counter... Yeah, love you too." Evan mumbled the last exchange. He did love Uncle Wendy and Aunt Moony. Wendell and Monica Wilkins had stepped in after Mum and Dad died in an accident. He wasn’t sure how he could have recovered from his injuries without them. They had been there for him when no one else had, doting on him like their own son. He was lucky to have such a loving aunt and uncle; they must have been great parents. It was such a tragedy they had lost their little girl when she was just eleven. He vaguely remembered a bossy girl with curly hair, but all his memories before the accident were a hazy jumble.   