Ezra's POV
The quietness in my mother's home was beginning to feel like a cage. I was sitting on the edge of the couch, phone in hand, looking down at the screen. Layla still had not returned any of my calls. Each time I called, the line rang once before being cut off. She was declining them.
I ground my teeth and redialed. Same result.
"Damn it," I said, running a hand through my hair until it stood up in messy waves. My chest felt heavy. With each unanswered call, I felt a stab.
"Still nothing?" My mother was at the dining table with a cup of tea.
I lifted my head quickly, frustrated. "No it doesn't matter, she's not answering, not one call. I've called over ten times and she has declined every one. And do you know what that means? She doesn't even want to hear from me.
