A significant pause ensued on the other end of the phone after Ewan's question. Sandro and Ewan exchanged cursory glances, wondering why Zack was taking so long to answer such a simple question.
"Hello… Zack? Why aren't you speaking—" Ewan scowled when the line cut abruptly.
Sandro furrowed his brow, watching as Ewan glared at the phone hotly, as if the device itself were at fault. "He ended the call?"
"Obviously, Sandro," Ewan huffed, tapping his thighs furiously. Kissing his teeth in frustration, he snatched up the phone and dialed Zack's number again. This time, it went straight to voicemail.
The sly old man had blocked him! That infidel! That stupid…!
Ewan angrily flung the phone; it hit the car dashboard and fell to the floor unceremoniously while Sandro watched in silence.
The tension in the air was palpable, and Ewan's frustration radiated throughout the car.
