Save for the distant sound of Fay's sob, the room was awkwardly silent.
Marilyn had her face stuck to the window, the bleakness of the day, encapsulating her.
For Alice, she just wanted Fay to eat. The poor girl looked worn out, and completely exhausted. If only she could eat, she'd be fine.
At the door, Ace watched Fay. He didn't know why he returned to the room. All he knew was that halfway walking through the halls of the hospital, he paused, unable to resume walking. It wasn't until he turned back, and sauntered into the room, did he feel relieved.
It was a strange feeling for him. One that made him question a lot of things, and nothing at the same time. Seeing her cry gnawed at his heart. Irritated his ears too, but that was a given.
He hated tears. Ever since his father's funeral where virtually everyone bawled their eyes out, even those who didn't give a fuck about him, he had thought it a performative action at best.
