He picked up the phone on the ground and hurried out the door.
Andrew returned to the car, gasping for breath, and suddenly raised his hand to slap himself.
I looked at him indifferently, my eyes full of sarcasm. Then he saw the missed call on the phone.
It was my mother calling.
My heart ached. She might not know that her daughter was no longer alive.
Andrew called back, and the call was picked up quickly.
"Andrew, I hope I didn't disturb you so late. I have finished knitting the scarves for you and Olivia. When will you come over to get them?"
Listening to my mother's voice, I cried silently.
Andrew calmed down and remembered the unanswered calls and messages.
"Madam, we'll go see you when Olivia comes back..."
Andrew forced a smile and told my mother the story of our conflict in a roundabout way.
"Olivia, is like that, always running off and not answering calls when she's upset. I guess she went to Charlotte's house again. I'll definitely have a good talk with her when she gets here."
After hanging up, Andrew stared at his phone, lost in thought.
He still had the scent of Ava on him.
He drove the car to the riverside near our neighborhood and sat on the stone bench by the river.