Henry fell on the couch with a sigh. 

He eyed his suitcase; one suitcase with the strict necessary clothes, and a laptop. Earl did not lie about their bare minimum new life. 

He groaned, throwing his phone on the cushions. It bounced and almost fell on the floor. 

Ola did not answer yet again. The call went straight to voicemail. Frustration grew like weed in Henry’s heart; suffocating and strong.

“You should eat,” Bryon said over a mouthful of ramyeon. The slurping sound filled the quiet place. 

Henry threw his head back. He stared at the ceiling; a white bare ceiling.

 His eyes fixated on the shadows from the furniture. ...