Zethar;
I look away from him as I speak.
"He says Father hasn't been well for a while," I reply, and silence follows.
"And he's only telling us now?" Zephan asks in bewilderment, and I shrug.
"That's like him," I reply, and he falls silent. Because he knows I'm right.
It is indeed like him. Our youngest brother has always carried more than he should without complaint. And truthfully, the fact that he's speaking up now makes me slightly worried. Because she never would unless she's realised he can't handle it alone.
Elián shifts slightly where he sits.
"Is it serious?" he asks— his voice is softer than usual. Almost even careful. Like he's trying not to disturb something fragile, and I turn to him.
I don't rush to answer this question… Because truthfully, I don't know if it's serious.
And that's beside the fact that I haven't allowed myself to know.
"It's enough for me to go back."I finally break the silence, looking back at my Aunt, and her gaze sharpens just slightly.
