The silence in the room stretched out, thin and fragile, threatening to snap under the weight of her lingering question.
The air between us felt dense, heavy with the quiet hum of the overhead lights and the unspoken tension that had been building since we first stepped into this sterile, enclosed space.
Dust motes drifted lazily through the single, pale beam of light cutting through the room's only window, illuminating the worn wooden floorboards beneath our boots.
I stared down at the floor, tracing the grain of the wood with my eyes, trying to formulate an answer that wouldn't give away how completely out of my depth I really felt.
"Well, I don't know. Why would you ask me?"
The words sounded hollow the moment they left my mouth, echoing faintly against the bare, undecorated walls. They lacked the conviction I had hoped to project, landing instead with a dull, defensive thud.
