Micah walked toward the small internet cafe two blocks away, his eyes glued to his phone screen. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a series of missed calls and unread messages from his family, full of reprimands and concern.
He let out a long, exhausted sigh. "Ahh… I'm fucked," he muttered under his breath and tapped on his father's number.
It didn't even ring twice.
"Dad," Micah called out, but before he could continue, his father's voice cut him off.
"Son! Where are you? What happened?" Jacob asked, voice filled with worry.
Micah pressed a hand over his forehead. "I'm with Darcy… near their home."
There was a pause, the kind that made it clear the other person was speechless. "You what?" Jacob said, voice rising. "Didn't you think about us? You were the one who asked your mother to come to the airport, so what was that? What kind of stunt were you pulling?" Jacob's voice had an undertone of accusation.
