Henry rushed into the dimly lit room with a flustered face. He was about to say something, but he paused when he noticed Lance lost in his thoughts. He approached his nephew and gently tapped him on the shoulder, attempting to rouse him from his thoughts. The shadows cast by the flickering fluorescent lights danced across the walls as Henry's agitation grew.
"Lance, are you okay?" Henry asked with suspicion, his voice reflecting his unease.
Lance stirred slightly, his gaze reluctantly shifting from the wall opposite him to his uncle. "What is the matter?" he replied, his focus moving to the phone in his hand. "Why do you look so troubled?"
The contrast in their moods was obvious, with Henry's evident distress and Lance's apparent detachment. The tension in the room grew as Henry couldn't fathom why Lance seemed so preoccupied.
