After the call ended, I hurried to the highway, desperately trying to hail a taxi.
But many drivers shook their heads and drove off upon hearing my destination.
"Girl, there's been an 8.0 magnitude quake in that border town. Who would risk their life for that?"
It was already late at night, and I stood on the road like a zombie, watching vehicles pass by, feeling confused and desperate.
I called Sheldon again, but a cold automated voice answered, "Hello, the number you dialed is turned off."
I knew it.
Whenever I called for his help and he refused, if I persisted, he would switch off his phone.
When did our relationship become like this?
I finally booked a ticket.
But the journey of over 20 hours, including transfers, took me three days.
Upon returning home, the earthquake had passed, leaving only ruins in the entire border town.
My grandma's body was mangled beyond recognition by mud and rocks, her original appearance lost forever.
The only thing she still clutched tightly was a photo of the three of us.
That was the first time I had brought Sheldon home to meet her, and she had specially hired a photographer to capture the occasion.
My eyes were dry.