The room suddenly shrunk, becoming so much smaller. In that small room, it was as if someone was holding a bomb, and the timer was counting down to something___, an explosion. The air was thick, almost alive as if it had a pulse and weight, unbearable weight that no one could hold.
No one moved. No one spoke, Eyes darted around the room--seeking understanding, seeking denial, seeking answers but found none. Mouths hung slightly open, frozen in unvoiced questions that refused to be asked.
Minka's fingers hovered over the edge of the armrest, Phoebe's words rebounded in her ears over and over persistently like the ticking of a timer of a bomb. She could not comprehend whether she had heard right.
