"Is there nothing else," asked an elder female voice, sounding slightly distraught. Here cracked as if she had been sobbing just awhile ago.
"Alright," she answered to the air, "I'll make an appointment then." Her tone though cracked, came to Evan's ears in whispers. She was trying to keep him unaware again.
He was sick, not deaf. "Tcht, figures," he groaned from his bedroom, placing one hand on his forehead. 'I'm just having another spell,' he thought silently, 'why does Mom worry so much?'
He wasn't exactly sure what had happened. He was walking out of the kitchen when the blackness swallowed him up. 'I'm anemic, it's bound to happen...' He reached over to his bed lamp and flicked it on, squinting in the new light.
There was an awkward silence as his mother, from the next room, glanced at his light before giving statements for the appointment. She shouldered the cordless and pulled his door until it was almost closed.