Treacherous
When she looked at the caller ID, she sighed, “I gotta take this.”
She stepped a little away as she spoke into her phone and from what I understood, it was a call from work. After she hung up, she looked back at me with exhaustion, “Code Orange.”
Frowning, I asked. “What’s that?”
“Loads of incoming trauma. Mass casualties expected - a bridge collapsed in the city. I need to rush to the hospital.” She said, and walked to the bed to fetch her purse.
“Right, stay safe.” I said. “We’ll talk when you come back.”
Bab Populer