Wyatt paced the length of the room, his boots echoing sharply against the wooden floorboards. His hands were clasped behind his back, his jaw tight as if he was grinding his teeth in frustration. Across the room, Jayce sat slouched in a chair, a plate of food balanced precariously on his knee as he shoveled forkfuls into his mouth without a care in the world.
Evelyn leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, watching them both with a look of growing annoyance. Finally, she rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. “You two are insufferable,” she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. “Wyatt, pacing isn’t going to make your half-baked plan any better. And Jayce, for god’s sake, do you ever stop eating?”
Jayce paused mid-bite, his mouth half-open as he looked at her with mock off
