Update (4:35 pm local Gaza time)

I call Asmaa’s sister in the Braiyj. No answer. Several times, I call and it rings and rings and I feel like I don’t know how to breath anymore. Twitter reports coming in said there were strikes there. I imagine baby Jude, crying from the sounds.

(5:00 pm local Gaza time)

I dial Asmaa and hold my breath. It rings and Asmaa answers.

“Alo,” she says with a tired tone.

Hi habibti, how are you? I ask exhaling.

“It’s been difficult, the bombing was very close to us last night. We barely slept,” she yawns as she finishes her sentence.

I swallow hard. Did you speak to Shaymaa today? I called her but she is not answering, I tell her.

“They barely have electricity. Her phone is probably not charged. I haven’t spoken to her either,” her voice is distorted. It’s the interference from the drones, I think to myself.

You’re tired, I’m sorry I say. My heart aches to hear her so down and exhausted.

“There was heavy bombing last night. It’s not so bad during the day, it seems farther out too and….Alo, alo, alo, alo?” she says.

I’m here, habibti. Habibti?

A bschzzzk looo? she says as her voice is being distorted again.

I hear a ring. Then a click. Silence.

I sigh heavily. Since the end of the cease-fire, calling Gaza has become a difficult feat. Her voice trails off in my mind and I can see her fiddling with her phone. I imagine she puts it down next to her as her eyes move toward the sky, cursing the drone above her.