As soon as Sky stepped into the house, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click, the tension in the air was immediate. Stifling.
His parents were waiting.
His mother sat on the edge of the couch, arms crossed, her sharp eyes locking onto him the moment he walked in. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, the kind that meant she'd been rehearsing this conversation in her head for hours.
His father stood near the window, hands in his pockets, posture stiff and unyielding.
And Rain—Rain was there too, lingering near the staircase, her arms crossed and expression tense, like she was bracing for impact.
Sky didn't say anything. He just walked in like nothing was off, dropping his keys onto the console table with a clatter that echoed in the heavy silence.
"Why weren't you picking up?" His mother's voice cut through the quiet, cool and controlled, but edged with a frustration she couldn't quite hide.
