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A voice carries over the ringing. “You doin’ ok over there, Sammy?” Strangely, Sam feels like he has to calculate his response. It should be automatic.
He knows he pauses for too long. “It’s Sam,” he insists.
Ding ding ding! He can feel his brother’s gaze linger for a moment longer, and then turn back to the road; it feels like he’s just chosen the right answer on a game show. Inexplicably, tension he didn’t notice melts out of him, and he leans his head against the cool glass window.
His phone is still ringing. Phones don’t ring this long.