The clinking sound of the silverware was the only sound filling the dining room. Plates were half-full, all their coffee was left untouched, and the air hung heavy with the silence.
No one said it aloud, but they all felt it, the weight of Lucas not being there. Him being unconscious was one thing since he was still here, but now that he's gone, it just feels different.
Ace sat at the head of the table, his gaze low, occasionally pushing a piece of egg around his plate. Kate sat to his right, his arms crossed, jaw clenched, staring at the far wall mindlessly.
Tara sat diagonally, casting side glances between them. Peter, for once, seemed unusually subdued. For a full five minutes, no one dared to speak.
And then Peter, with the tact of a brick through glass, muttered, "It's weird wit
