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I won’t be able to function until you come home tomorrow.
Mrs. Saraci
About that…
Ten minutes passed, and no new messages came through. She’d said she would be back on Saturday. If she didn’t come back, who was to say she would return at all?
Dr. Lucas Saraci MD
Leaving me already?
Thirty minutes later, there was still nothing.
Eventually, he had to hide his phone in his leather bag to prevent himself from checking it like an obsessed maniac.
“Knock, knock.” Delilah entered the lecture hall, descended the steps, and set her things down on one of the front-row desks. “Hello, dear brother-in-law. How’s it going?”
He grumbled a response.
She studied him, head cocked to the side. “Interesting. Usually, you’re at ornery level seven. Today, I sense a level nine. Did something happen?”
“Have you heard from your sister today?”
“Earlier, yeah. Why?”
“She won’t text me back.”
“Did you call her?”
“No.”
“You didn’t call her?”
“Don’t judge me.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t like this. How do you deal with this?”
“What, severe anxiety?”
“I don’t have anxiety.”
“Uh, sure.” She looked around. “Where’s your phone?”
“In there.” He tried to gesture to his bag but managed only a limp flick of his fingers. “It’s been in there for the last half hour or so.”
“When’s the last time you checked your phone?”
“About a half hour ago.”
“Dr. S, if you haven’t checked your phone, how do you know she hasn’t texted you back?” Delilah, mumbling something under her breath, searched the bag until she found his phone.
He rattled off his passcode.
“One new message,” she said. “It’s from somewhere called ‘Échelon’? It’s for fifteen percent off your next purchase. Do you really shop at a store called Échelon?”
He left the desk and went to lean against the room’s front wall. “She hasn’t responded. She’s not coming back.”
“In a way, it’s refreshing to see you like this.”
“This isn’t Fashion Week,” he argued. “She’s in North Carolina. Plus, she was texting me just fine, and then…nothing.”
