At 9 AM, the landline on the bedside table was ringing non-stop.
Sophie Sullivan, in a sleepy haze, reached out and hung up the phone.
She crawled back into her silk quilt and resumed sleeping.
The phone, as if trying to challenge her patience, rang endlessly.
Propping herself up on her arm, she reached out to answer the phone, "Who is it?"
"What time is it, and you're still asleep? Young people nowadays..."
Hearing Old Mr. Stanford's voice, Sophie immediately snapped half awake. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she asked, "Mr. Stanford, you're calling me so early. Have you figured out the surgical plan?"
"Of course!"
"Amazing! When can I have the surgery?" Sophie couldn't wait to say goodbye to this hideous face.
"Come downstairs."
With that, George Stanford hung up the phone.
Sophie stared blankly at the phone, saying "Hello?" a few times. Only after confirming he had indeed hung up did she hastily run her fingers through her hair.
