CHRIS’ POV
When we had gone downstairs for breakfast, George and Jane were there. While Jane was very welcoming and happy, George was sulking.
“Good morning, you two! I made pancakes, and there’s fresh coffee on the counter,” Jane said, her voice as inviting as ever.
George sat rigidly, hunched over his newspaper, with the faintest furrow of disapproval etched into his brow. He didn’t so much as glance at me, his focus fixed on his paper as though it held the secrets to the universe.
I couldn’t help but wonder if their demeanor had anything to do with last night. While I didn’t recall being particularly loud, Judy’s uninhibited moaning might have carried through the walls. A part of me cringed at the thought, but another part dismissed it just as quickly. If anything, they should be g
