The group drove back in silence, their mood soured and their expressions heavy.
Everything that had happened that night had gone far beyond their expectations.
Kelvin sat quietly in the back seat. He appeared exceptionally calm, almost too calm.
One finger tapped rhythmically against his knee while his gaze remained fixed on the darkness outside the window.
No one could tell what was going through his mind.
Yet with every passing second, the tension inside the vehicle seemed to increase.
The atmosphere was so heavy that it felt difficult to breathe.
Steve could not help but wonder what exactly had been said at the mansion that had plunged his friend into such deep silence.
No, not silence but thinking.
Tapping his fingers against his knee was a familiar action he does when he was thinking through a difficult assumption.
Several times, Steve stole glances at his face, hoping to find some hint of what he was thinking.
