Athena turned to Ewan at his question, a furrow marring her forehead when she noticed that he was still snickering over the picture.
"You seem more concerned about Sandro's funny pictures than Aiden's marriage. So why do you even ask?"
Ewan lifted his head from the device, confusion clouding his face. What did he do wrong now? Had he asked the wrong question?
He wetted his lips, more confused at why she was glaring at him hotly.
'What did you do, Ewan? Think! Think!' He commanded his mind, keeping the phone gently on his thighs.
"Athena…" He called, but she hissed and walked out of the room.
Ewan couldn't believe what was happening. Was he not permitted to talk about Aiden?
Being someone who easily got restless when there were no answers lying around, he grasped the phone tightly in his hand, removed the drip that had been put in his arm—it was almost done after all—and stepped down from the tiny bed.
