The next morning,
The dining room was quiet except for the soft sounds of breakfast being eaten.
Jaenor sat at the table with a plate of food in front of him that he was making a reasonable effort to actually consume. He'd learned over the past few days that eating was one of those social rituals that Martha tracked, and avoiding it created concern that manifested as additional questions he didn't want to answer.
The house felt different this morning. Heavier somehow, weighted with things unsaid.
He heard footsteps on the stairs. Martha's pattern, but slower than usual and more hesitant.
She entered the dining room, saw him, and her eyes immediately moved to somewhere over his left shoulder. She crossed to the coffee maker with focused attention and poured a cup with the accuracy of someone performing a task that required all their concentration.
"Good morning," Jaenor said.
"Morning," Martha replied to the coffee maker.
