Marlowe
"FINALLY!" Grant's voice carried clear across the stunned silence, loud and entirely too enthusiastic, breaking the moment's weight with an awkwardness that startled a laugh out of half the crowd despite themselves. "Sorry — sorry, I just — do you know how long Cricket's betting pool has been running? Somebody needs to go collect on this!"
The tension shattered into laughter, warm and relieved, several people near Grant swatting at him for the terrible timing while others couldn't help laughing along despite the interruption. Cricket, somewhere in the crowd, let out a triumphant whoop about finally winning something after weeks of losing bets, and I found myself laughing too, through tears, the whole overwhelming weight of the moment softened just enough to breathe through proper
