Abigail spoke and, seeing that Brandon Piers didn't move, she raised her eyebrows slightly, "Hmm?"
Brandon, with a forced smile, handed the spoon to his son.
Teddy took the fork, quite happy, completely oblivious to his own father's body growing more and more rigid. He poked the fried egg right in the center of the plate, creating a hole at the edge without catching any of the food. Unperturbed, he switched to the heart-shaped apple slice and continued stabbing, turning a dishful of food into a mess of myriad shapes - some pieces broken, some squashed, with no discernible form left.
Brandon felt uncomfortable all over and had to suppress the urge to throw his son out, but instead, he turned and smiled at Abigail.
Abigail returned a more radiant smile to Brandon.
The atmosphere around the dining table was indescribably odd.
