/Amber’s pov/
"Yeah, I'll be there in about twenty minutes," he responded, nodding and rushing. I could hear him stomping around in the background, probably cramming all of my belongings into a suitcase or something equally ridiculous.
“Thanks.” During this period of reflection, I snapped my phone shut and pressed it against the back of my skull. Is there a more appropriate way to express it? I couldn't think of anything else to do because I was stuck in a rut.
It was difficult to type the phone number for my father's house since my hands were trembling and I was terrified to death. It continued to ring for an extended period of time. He took up the phone just as I was about to give up hope of ever finding a job.
When I heard his voice, which was soft and thick with slumber, I felt
