RYKER'S POV
No one spoke for several minutes after the echo of the slamming front door finally faded away into the storm.
The heavy, suffocating silence returned to the living room, thicker and more bitter than before. The only consistent sound left was the sharp, rhythmic ticking of the old wall clock hanging above the television. Every second felt like a heavy drop of water hitting a stone, marking the passage of a nightmare we had all just barely survived.
Lila was the first to move. Her movements were stiff, completely mechanical, like a doll being pulled by invisible strings. She stepped around me, kneeling down on the cold hardwood floor, and began quietly picking up the broken glass and sharp ceramic shards scattered from the shattered vase.
Her hands were still trembling so vio
