Rhyder's POV.
When we stepped back into the kitchen, my mother stood immediately to pour us each a cup of coffee.
My father gestured for us to take a seat. His expression was stoic, his shoulders tense. My mother was nervously chewing on the inside of her cheek.
"Did you at least get some sleep?"
She asked as she set the cups down in front of us. Her voice was quiet, her eyes searching our faces for whatever we couldn't or wouldn't put into words.
"No."
I was the only one that spoke. Grace only shook her head as she took her mug in both hands and alowly lifted it up to her lips.
"No, of course you didn't. That was a silly question."
My mother waved a hand through the air as if she was trying to wave her question away. She sat back down next to my father and reached across the table
