On the other end of the line, before Li Zhi's voice—which had shot up an octave in a shriek of pure, tail-stepped-on mortification—could even fade, the phone screen abruptly went black.
The "call ended" tone was cold and brief.
Under the bright lights of the living room, Xu Chan remained frozen with the phone to her ear. The smile and lingering concern on her face instantly solidified, then dissolved into a state of stunned emptiness.
She stared at the instantly darkened screen, the echo of that "Mom!" seeming to still ring in her ears, but all the screen showed was the reflection of her own bewildered face.
Finally, all her emotions melted into a long, deeply helpless sigh that escaped her lips.
She slowly lowered her slightly stiff arm and shook her head at the black screen, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Sitting on the sofa nearby, Old Li, who was leisurely holding a teacup, had witnessed the entire lightning-fast hang-up.
