A heavy atmosphere surrounded the room as three people sat within it, not close to one another.
Ariana rested on the bed, her back against the headboard, a sheepish smile fixed on her face as though she was well aware of the trouble she had caused—and had no intention of feeling too guilty about it.
By the window stood Annabelle. Her posture was stiff, her hands clasped together as she stared outside for a few seconds before darting her gaze back to Ariana, then to the third person in the room. The unease on her face was impossible to miss.
The third person in question was, of course, Adrian. He sat across from the bed with his arms crossed, his back straight and his expression tight. The look on his face clearly conveyed one thing—complaint. And a lot of it.
For several moments, no one spoke.
Finally, the silence was broken by the silver-haired girl on the bed.
"It was just a joke."
