Artur knocked once, then pushed the door open. "Dinner's ready," he said, his voice even.
Mark lay sprawled on the bed, phone clutched loosely in his hand. His eyes were open, unfocused, like he'd been staring at the screen without really seeing it.
"Come on," Artur added, softer this time.
Mark blinked once before sitting up slowly. "Yeah… I'll be there."Not even a flicker of expression moved across his face."
Artur didn't wait for more. He turned and walked out.
At the table, Billy had already laid out the dishes. Stew. Bread. Something lightly fried that Mr. Dand had insisted on making despite his complaints about "youths never doing it right."
Mr. Dand settled into his chair, grumbling something about how long it took to gather everyone just to eat.
Billy gave him a light smile and poured water into the glasses.
Artur took his seat just as Mark stepped in, his expression unreadable. He sat across from Billy, beside Mr. Dand, without saying a word.
