Shawn chewed slowly.
Very slowly.
Not because he wanted to savor the food, but because his jaw still ached from all the accumulated discomfort of the past few days.
In front of him, on a plate his sister had washed before using, was a portion of grilled chicken with rice and salad.
Real food.
Food that didn't come in a greasy paper bag or a plastic container with some fast-food chain's logo.
Sarah sat on the other side of the table, eyes glued to her phone, scrolling without saying a single word.
The silence between them was thick.
Heavy.
The kind of silence Shawn knew all too well.
'This feels just like being back home,' he thought, lowering his gaze to his plate.
The same uncomfortable silence that filled his parents' dining room whenever someone had done something wrong and no one wanted to be the first to speak.
Shawn hated that silence.
He hated it because it always meant someone was waiting for him to make the first move.
To apologize.
To admit he'd screwed up.
To open his mouth so the other person could unload everything they'd been holding in.
'No way in hell,' Shawn thought, shoving another spoonful of rice into his mouth.
In a normal situation, he would've already kicked her out of his apartment.
Told her to leave.
To leave him alone.
That he didn't need her company or her pity.
But he couldn't do that.
Not after the total mess he'd caused with the online cancellation.
His entire family was dealing with the fallout from his stupidity, and Sarah had come all the way to his apartment to check on him in person.
The least he could do was not tell her to fuck off.
But what really made him uncomfortable was something else.
Since Sarah had arrived, she hadn't mentioned the internet thing even once.
Not once.
Not a single comment.
Not even a subtle jab.
Nothing.
And that was weird.
Really weird.
Because Sarah wasn't the type to keep quiet about things.
'Is she waiting for me to bring it up?' Shawn thought, glancing at her sideways.
Sarah kept her eyes on her phone, not looking up.
'I'm not falling for it,' Shawn thought, returning to his plate. 'If she wants to talk about it, she can say it herself. I'm not opening that door just so she can lecture me for half an hour.'
Shawn finished the last bite of chicken and stood up from the chair, carrying the plate to the sink.
He turned on the faucet and started washing.
Sarah stopped looking at her phone.
She watched him in silence for a few seconds.
And then she spoke.
"Wow," Sarah said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I'm witnessing a miracle."
Shawn didn't turn around.
"It's the least I can do," he replied, scrubbing the plate with the sponge. "You're here babysitting me, you went to the trouble of cooking and washing everything that was dirty. It'd be pretty shameless of me to leave this for you too."
Sarah raised an eyebrow.
"I hope you keep your place this clean the next time I come over," she said, crossing her arms.
Shawn snorted.
"If you're coming over, don't expect this," he said without turning. "This is a special occasion."
Sarah blinked.
"Since when is keeping the space you use clean considered a special occasion?" she asked, genuinely confused.
"Since this isn't your house," Shawn replied, turning off the faucet and setting the plate in the drainer.
Sarah stared at him for several seconds.
Then she let out a long sigh.
"Unblock me on your phone," she said in a serious voice.
Shawn turned, drying his hands with a towel.
"I never blocked you," he answered.
"Then why weren't you answering my messages?" Sarah asked, frowning.
"I was asleep."
Sarah narrowed her eyes.
"Asleep?" she repeated, her tone making it clear she didn't buy it. "Shawn, you've been ignoring me for ten hours."
Shawn shrugged.
"I was busy with work," he said, trying to sound casual.
"With work?" Sarah repeated, tilting her head. "And exactly how much are you making with that 'work' of yours?"
Shawn went quiet for a second.
"Enough to not have to move back home," he replied.
Sarah looked at him in silence.
Then she sighed again.
"You're hopeless," she said, shaking her head.
There was a brief pause.
"Dad's offering you a job at the bakery," Sarah said, her tone calmer now.
Shawn let out a laugh.
"Sure," he said with a mocking smile. "Right now the bakery really needs a big public face like me, huh?"
"Obviously you wouldn't be out front, idiot," Sarah cut in, frowning. "You'd work as a baker. In the back."
Shawn stopped laughing.
"The pay's not bad," Sarah continued. "Twenty dollars an hour."
Shawn froze.
Twenty dollars an hour.
At his current job—if he could even still call it that—he made a lot less.
And that was when they actually paid him on time.
Because the reality was that Shawn worked slowly. Very slowly. And his boss sometimes withheld payments for late or incomplete deliveries.
Twenty dollars an hour was double what he made.
More than double, honestly.
'That's…' Shawn thought, doing quick mental math.
But then a suspicion crossed his mind.
"And one of the conditions is that I move back home?" he asked, looking Sarah straight in the eye.
Sarah looked away.
"You'll find out when you go over and ask Dad yourself," she replied, avoiding his gaze.
Shawn watched her.
The way she looked away.
The way she avoided answering directly.
'Yeah,' Shawn thought. 'That's one of the conditions.'
"Pass," he said, turning back to the sink. "I'm too lazy to wake up early."
Sarah frowned.
"Lazy?" she repeated.
"And going out every day to work," Shawn added. "That too."
Sarah stood up from the chair.
"You need to fix that damn laziness of yours," she said firmly. "And your online attitude too."
Shawn spun around.
"If you're going to start a fight here, you know where the door is," he said, pointing toward the exit.
Sarah stared at him for a few seconds.
She said nothing.
Then she grabbed her bag from the chair.
"I was leaving anyway," she said, walking toward the door. "Check your phone. You'll see what I spent the money you gave me on. I bought you food for several days so you stop eating so much crap."
Shawn watched her.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
And he meant it.
Though inside, part of him was already doing the math.
'One hundred fifty dollars minus what she spent on food…' he thought, worry creeping back in. 'I've got like fifteen bucks left in the account.'
Fifteen dollars.
For everything.
Sarah was already at the door, hand on the knob, when she stopped.
She turned.
"Hey," she said, in a different tone. Softer. Almost curious. "Did you get religious?"
Shawn blinked.
"What?" he said, confused. "Why are you asking that?"
"I never thought you'd have a Bible in your place," Sarah replied, with a half-smile.
Shawn felt his body tense.
'The Bible,' he thought, eyes widening slightly more than normal.
He'd left it in his bedroom.
He was sure of it.
And Sarah hadn't gone into his bedroom at any point.
"Where did you see it?" Shawn asked, trying to sound casual.
Sarah laughed.
"With the mess you've got, I'm not surprised you didn't even notice," she said, pointing toward a corner of the kitchen.
Shawn followed the direction of her finger.
And there it was.
The Bible.
On the kitchen counter, between a roll of paper towels and an empty bread bag.
"Anyway," Sarah said, opening the door. "Take care, Shawn."
And she left.
The door closed.
The apartment fell silent.
Shawn stood in the kitchen, staring at the Bible.
He walked over slowly and picked it up.
He held it in both hands, feeling its weight.
The pages were closed.
No messages.
No golden letters.
Just an old, heavy Bible in his hands.
Shawn set it on the table and sat down.
He stared at it for a long time.
'Should I go back?' he thought, remembering the other world.
The vampire queen.
Elena.
The wounded knights.
All of that was still there, waiting for him.