The silence inside the tent did not break after George finished speaking. It stretched longer than it should have, filling every corner of the space until it felt heavy enough to press against their skin.
The dim light barely shifted as time passed. The atmosphere continued to sink deeper, turning thicker and harder to breathe through.
No one tried to speak anymore. No one even looked at each other for more than a brief moment. Each of them had already been pulled into their own minds, caught in their own thoughts, trapped in the quiet storm building inside.
The loss they had just experienced refused to fade. It stayed there in a clear and unrelenting manner, replaying again and again without giving them room to escape. Every memory of Daniel and Clara felt too vivid and too close, as if they were still supposed to be here sitting among them.
That absence did not feel natural. It felt wrong, like something had been torn away and left an empty space that nothing could fill.
