Hannah and I had managed to find our seats back at the table. I already knew and very much expected the reactions of the other occupants of the table. The lively chatter that I had heard before my arrival had been substituted with the sounds of clinking bowls, Bryant's disgusting slurping, an occasional cough from my supposed step-father.

I'm not unaware of the obvious elephant of the room. Unlike Hannah, no one wanted me here. It was literally all over each of their faces. But that's fine, I don't fancy them so much either.

Daphne, my biological mother, had sat across from me. Her face had been covered by her bluntly cut blonde hair. Any outsider looking in wouldn't have guessed that she birthed me. Despite us both having naturally black hair and murky grey eyes. Her thin, red manicured hand had covered her bowl as she continued to quietly shovel down into her tasteless meal. She had never raised her head to face me ever since I had arrived in the dining room. The fact that she was touching a steaming hot bowl without flinching or removing her hand had already told me everything I needed to know about how she was feeling at this second.

My step-father, Allen, had sat on Daphne's left. Buds of sweat had already formed along his bald head, his entire head had looked red underneath the dull chandelier that hung above us at this round dining table, as if the sight of me alone just pissed him off. Good. His dopey emerald green eyes had never left Daphne. It seemed as if he was waiting (more like begging) for her to say something about my sudden and unwanted arrival.

On Daphne's right was Allen's son, Bryant. I fucking hated this guy. Everything he did was obnoxious. He had that same dopey look in his eyes as his father, his brown hair had been gelled back to reveal his shit-eating face. He had twisted and turned his spoon into his own bowl, causing the stew to fly out of his bowl occasionally and onto the basic blue and white checkered tablecloth before us. His elbow laid rested on the table, supporting his face as a dull expression was formed.

Finally, on my left was Hannah, who had a satisfied smile on her face as she continued to eat the remaining parts of her pot roast in her own bowl. My heart lightened as she lightly hummed and nodded her head. Favorite one in the family, hands down.

"So, what do you think is happening out there?" Bryant piped, breaking the silence at the dinner table. It didn't take me long to figure out that he was asking me this question, but why?

I shot him a blank stare. Seconds after debating on even indulging in this conversation, I finally spoke. "What do you mean?"

Bryant had stopped fiddling with his pot roast. "Pretty sure I was as clear as glass but whatever...I'm talking about the quarantine."

I furrowed my brow, "Why are you asking me?"

"Margaret Wilson died, back when the electricity was running, her son was informing the entire town last week, remember?" He prodded at his food with his fork.

"People talk a lot in this neighborhood," A shit-eating grin had formed along his punch-able face. "I figured you'd know best since you were out last week."

And you're about to forget in about two seconds.

"I was meaning to ask you, did you give Isaac our condolences for us? I'm sure he was up late enough." He continued, a light smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. This piece of shit was trying to throw me under the bus for fun.

I single-handedly popped my knuckles on the rest of my hand with my calloused thumb. I had left a week ago at night to grab a drink or two because Daphne had been too busy literally fucking Allen to keep watch of the house in case someone tried to break in. Needless to say, I didn't get the booze due to the gas station being literally locked up and vacant military vehicles that made it almost impossible to pass through.

Daphne took this chance to finally show her miserable face. "What?"

"Bryant, who cares?" Hannah calmly asked while she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "And why bring it up now?"

Bryant's mouth had contorted in a scowl. "Always taking his side I see."

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "What side? You've had all the chances in the world to talk to Dakota about it. Especially since you said it happened a week ago."

"Settle down." Allen's half-assed reprimand did little to settle down the situation that was slowly escalating.

"I'm not trying to be the bad guy here." Bryant deflected as his tone sounded literally anything but sincere. "I'm just keeping my family safe."

"Safe." I repeated, a small smile newly formed on my face. "And safe from whom?"

Bryant chuckled in response. "I think you know the answer to tha-" His sentence was cut off with a light thud, his entire body had jolted forward. It didn't take me long to notice that Hannah had kicked the little shit in the shin underneath the table. She continued to stare daggers into him. With a glowered look on his face, Bryant had disregarded whatever he was about to say.

Again, my favorite one in the family.

Hannah and I had exchanged smiles as she took a sip of her water. I had wanted to plant my fists into Bryant's face but after having to witness him turn into a little bitch at the table will do just nicely, all thanks to Hannah.

She reached for her favorite handkerchief and dabbed at the corners of her mouth. "Mom, Allen, may I be excused? This stew sure does put me to sleep."

Daphne had finally raised her head from her hand, as if snapped out of a trance. "You don't need to ask me baby, have a good night." She said with a smile.

Hannah quietly rose from her chair, gave my shoulder a light slug before exiting the dining room. A moment later, Bryant had sighed loudly. "I have books to catch up on, have a good night."

Allen had been right behind him. "I need a smoke, I'll be in the bedroom." He explained nonchalantly before he had left the room to Daphne and myself.

Silence had filled the room shortly after.

All that was left was the dull light of the chandelier above us, and Daphne's glare.