Family

The next morning, I reluctantly got out of bed, the events of the previous day still heavy on my mind. I knew today wasn't going to be any easier, but I had to face it. I slowly made my way downstairs to the kitchen, where the scent of pancakes and bacon greeted me. Normally, this would lift my spirits, but today the air felt thick with tension.

When I entered the kitchen, I saw my family already seated at the table. Andrew was there, his face set in a stony expression, still refusing to meet my gaze. Mom was bustling around, placing dishes on the table, and Dad was sipping his coffee, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Good morning," I said softly, taking my seat.

"Morning," Mom replied, but her usual cheeriness was missing. Dad just nodded, and Andrew said nothing.

We ate in strained silence, the clinking of cutlery the only sound breaking the heavy quiet. I tried to swallow the food, but it felt like sawdust in my mouth. I kept sneaking glances at Andrew, hoping for some sign of soften