David hesitates, glancing at Monja and then back at Christine. The baby in Christine's arms fusses, its cries echoing the tension in the air.
David: *He shifts his weight, avoiding Christine's gaze.* It's… complicated, Christine. We need to talk to Chris.
Christine: *She gives Monja a once-over, a flicker of recognition in her eyes.* So it's 'you', huh? The… so-called 'soulmate'? I should have known.
Christine's voice drips with venom, Monja stiffens, internally glad that she left the kids at his mother. David steps between them, his hands raised in a placating gesture.
Christine: *She rolls her eyes, adjusting the fussy kid on her hip.*
David: *He looks pleadingly at his sister-in-law.* Christine, please. This isn't the time. We just want to know where Chris is.
Christine: *She rolls her eyes, adjusting the baby.* How should I know? He stormed out like a child, muttering something about needing 'fresh air'. Probably off with some other… 'friend'.
Monja: *Her eyes flash, but she keeps her voice level. Not knowing where even the thought came from.* This isn't helpful. Christopher wouldn't just disappear. If you paid a little more attention you would have known that.
A tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by the baby's soft whimpers. The setting sun casts long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. Monja's gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the scattered toys, the overflowing laundry basket, the half-eaten bowl of cereal on the coffee table. A pang of sympathy, unexpected and unwelcome, flickers within her.
Christine: *She scoffed, shifting the baby to her other hip. The infant, oblivious to the tension, gurgled and reached for a strand of Christine's hair.* Attention? As if 'I' don't have enough on my plate already. Unlike some people, I have actual responsibilities.
David: *David rubs his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He knows that he should be careful what he says next.* Look, can we just focus on finding Chris? He's been… Preoccupied.
Monja: *Monja sighs, running a hand through her hair. The worry etched on her face deepens as the faintest recollection of Christopher came to mind.* Preoccupied? Doing what? He's been acting strangely for weeks now, ever since…
Christine: *She scoffs, interrupting Monja mid-sentence.* Oh, please. Don't act like you know him so well. He's always been… eccentric.
Monja: *Her eyes narrows, her patience wearing thin.* Eccentric is one thing. Disappearing without a word is another. I know him better than you think, Christine.
The air crackles with unspoken tension. David shifts uncomfortably, caught in the crossfire. The baby in Christine's arms begins to cry louder, adding to the chaotic atmosphere.
David: *He glances at the closed door, his mind racing. Where could Chris have gone? He took Monja by the arm and pulled her towards the door.* Thanks for the help Christine, we'll take our leave, now.