Colin's phone rang beside the bed before I had finished wiping his hair thoroughly.
Sometimes, I hated the ubiquitous high-tech products like cell phones, which ruined the atmosphere at critical moments.
Of course, even if I hated it, it provided numerous benefits. I couldn't live without it.
His phone was by the bed, about three feet away from where Colin and I were. As I had good eyesight, I could easily see the number on the phone screen with a glance. The number was unfamiliar, and I had no idea who the caller was.
I didn't know many of Colin's colleagues' phone numbers, mainly because I hadn't had much contact with them. I didn't like their lively events and had never attended their gatherings.
When someone contacted him at this hour, I automatically thought it was his colleague or the lecturer Colin had helped.
I took the phone, picked it up, and placed it near his ear. His big hand held mine, moistening my hand.
Before Colin said a few words, I could feel his muscles stiffen. He abruptly took the phone from my hand and placed it on the other ear.
He stood up unconsciously, frowned, and turned solemn. He didn't even notice how loose his towel was.
"How is it? Is the injury serious? What did the doctor say?" Colin spoke quickly with a rare seriousness.
He most likely valued the injured person.
Emotions were contagious. I felt nervous as well.
I quickly got out of bed and stood beside Colin. I hugged his arm to comfort him and tried to hear who was hurt.
Countless scenarios of that person's injuries flashed through my mind.
It could be Aunt Mel or Uncle Austin, or it could be Felix, whom I hated.
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