-Raya-
After we slurped the last of the noodles and crunched through the last cracker, I stood from the table and grabbed our dishes.
“I got this,” I said over my shoulder. “You cooked the water.”
No response. I assumed he was just giving me one of those stoic nods again. Typical Alec.
I rinsed the bowl and spoons, wiped down the table, and even returned the empty cracker wrapper to my emergency snack stash in the pantry (a little more hidden this time).
It didn’t take long—maybe five minutes.
But when I turned around, I nearly dropped the towel in my hand.
Alec was slumped back in his chair, one arm hanging loosely by his side, the other still resting on the table like he was holding an invisible spoon. His head leaned slightly to the right, jaw slack, hair falling over his forehea
