My sister’s old number answered

Dear Delyara, My sister died six years ago. I never deleted her number from my phone. Sometimes, when grief became particularly stupid, I called it just to hear the automated message saying the number was no longer in service. Tonight, I called without thinking. A woman answered. I hung up immediately. Then she called back. I stared at my sister’s name on the screen while another woman’s life rang through it. Eventually, I answered. She asked who I was. I apologized and explained that the number used to belong to my sister. There was a silence. Then the woman said, “I’m sorry.” I said it was fine, which was ridiculous. She had done nothing. Phone numbers are recycled because the world cannot preserve every route to the dead. After we hung up, I changed my sister’s contact name from “Emily” to “Emily — old number.” I still have not deleted it. The strangest part is knowing someone else is now receiving birthday calls, appointment reminders, takeaway messages through a number I once believed belonged so completely to my sister that I could recognize the last four digits faster than my own. Death keeps teaching me that the world reuses things grief considered sacred.