The living room was unusually quiet, the air thick with unspoken worry. The soft hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound filling the space as Margaret paced near the fireplace, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
The others sat around the room—Emily perched anxiously on the edge of the couch, Michael leaning against the wall, and Larry sitting in the armchair, his face unreadable.
Sophie was asleep upstairs, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing below.
Margaret finally stopped pacing and turned to face Larry, her lips pressed into a tight line.
“We need to talk,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Larry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I figured this was coming.”
Emily leaned forward, her hands clasped together. “How bad is it, Larry?” Her voice was steady, but t
