My heart stops dead and my throat constricts. My veins surge in my hand which tightly grips the phone's handset. The plastic creaks and the static is a knife in my ear. A cold sweat slides from the nape of my neck and down my back as I swallow thickly, tears welling in my eyes. At the forefront of my mind, all I can see is Dad's heart breaking in his face when I made Seth deny him his trip to Boston. Has this happened because I argued with him? Did I cause him more stress than his body could handle?
"Olivia?"
"Is..." I force a sharp pinch of air into my lungs. "I-is he okay?"
Mason leans forward, planting his hands on the desk, his body softer than it was moments ago.
"He's okay."
I gasp and fall into my seat. I swipe my hand over my forehead, then press my palm to my cheeks, encouraging blood to return to my face. My welling tears empty themselves of grief and fill with relief. I let them spill over the edge and roll down my cheek, then I swipe them away.