The Weight of Her Silence

The dining room had gone unnaturally quiet.

Not the comfortable kind. Not the kind that came with familiarity. This silence lingered—heavy, reflective, unsettled.

Roth broke first.

“That’s… screwy,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his jaw. His gaze stayed fixed on the table. “I mean—seriously. Is attending that concert really that important to her?”

The words hung there, careless and sharp.