The coffee slid down Lena's throat like warm water. No bitterness. No heat. Just liquid.
She set the mug on the table. The ceramic clicked against the wood. The sound was sharp. Too sharp. It vibrated in her skull, right behind the numb patch on her forehead.
Ryder sat across from her. He was eating toast. Crumbs stuck to his chin. He smiled at Mara.
"This is good," he said. He held up the crust. "Can I have more jelly?"
Mara's hand shook as she reached for the jar. The knife clattered against the rim. Jelly smeared on the table. Red. Like blood.
"Of course, sweetheart," Mara said. Her voice was tight. She didn't look at Lena. She looked at Ryder. Like she was afraid he might vanish if she blinked.
Lena watched the jelly. It didn't smell sweet. It smelled like nothing. Like plastic.
