When the Sun Cries

Chapter Eleven

Mason tapped his fork against the slightly raised lip of his plate nervously, staring down at the placemat underneath which had small canaries soaring in the corner threaded in subtly with blue and yellow yarn. The resonating sound of the fork tapping against the glass was the only sound ringing throughout the room besides the congested moans of the large heater situated in the niche in the back of the room.

Jace had barely woken up enough to eat a small piece of buttered toast before shuffling to the dorm styled bedroom adjacent from the kitchen. Dirt and sweat covered him, but he could hardly lift his head and continued to fall alseep at the table, making the time inappropriate to worry about his cleanliness.

The kitchen was a modest size and happened to be cramped with bulky, wooden cupboards lining the walls. Windows were sparse, and the few that were in the house had furniture and planks covering them to avoid detection from the authorities.

To Graces dismay, she had abandoned her gnawing appetite when she left Emili alone in the meeting room. But she still attempted to eat the beans and dry beef that had been placed in front of her. The meal reminded her of home, and so, she decided to ignore the bile that rose in her throat whenever she took a bite.
    "Are you alright, Grace?" Mason asked worriedly, looking up from the empty plate in front of him to see the harsh lines underneath her eyes and the paleness of her skin that made them more prominant. She was swaying slightly in her chair and appeared as though she were about to faint. Regardless, she was vigilant. She cleared and throat and quickly replied, "I'm fine, thank you."
Picking up the small pile of dishes from the table, she situated them on top of the counter before sitting down in her uncomfortable seat once again.

Silence ensued, allowing Emili's sobs to be heard faintly floating down the hallway toward them. Something slammed against the door of the conference room and Mason cringed before leaning over the table slightly. The building was noiseless for a moment. When Emili's cries finally filled the tense atmosphere, Grace released the breath she had subconsciously been holding. Mason scratched the scruff on his chin, attempting to talk over the commotion she was making, "Alsiah will be back soon, I'm sure. She'll be glad to see you."

Grace nodded, nervously playing with the hem of her dress as she selfishly wondered if she would be able to change soon. A stain of blood stood out against the whiteness of the material, specks of crimson running up the side. She shivered, suddenly reminded of the man she had killed merely hours ago. She stood upright as she heard the main door open, hitting her legs off the corner of the table, which caused it to tremble.

Mason withdrew a gun from his back pocket and put his hand protectively in front of her stomach. A gust of wind flew into the kitchen which produced goosebumps on Graces skin. The door slammed, causing Mason to flinch as his shoulders tensed and Grace looked down at his hand which was hovering slightly in front of her. It was in a tense fist and his knuckles had turned white, his hand shaking due to his anxious state. As soon as the door slammed Alsiah appeared in the kitchen in a flurry of fabrics and stinging wind. Mason relaxed before dropping his arm to his side. The bun on Alsiahs head had drooped to the base of her neck and her thin trench coat appeared to have been her only form of protection against the violent weather outside. As soon as her eyes locked with Graces she grinned, running over to gather her in her arms, "I'm so glad you're safe. Where are the twins and Katherine?" Mason held his breath throughout the torturous silence that followed Graces lack of response before he answered for her, "Connor and Katherine didn't make it. I'm extremely sorry for your loss, ma'am."

Shaking her head slowly, Alsiahs bun fell out completely as the hair elastic fell to the floor. Her hair gently lay in tangled curls cascading over her shoulders and she tugged on a single strand inattentively. Grace felt a gentle squeeze on her shoulder blades as she was hugged tightly prior to being released within Alsiahs next exhale of breath. "How is Emili responding to the information?" She inquired and Grace watched her place her hands at her sides, completely motionless.

Whenever Alsiah had been upset or anxious in the past, her hands would move. They were constantly in motion. She would gather the comfortable material of her shirt or tangle her slender fingers together, play with the zipper on her baggy sweater or the bent corners of a book. Grace had never seen her hands cease their continuous gestures and instantly noticed once it happened, seeking the familiar comfort from the movements presence.
         "Not well. She's in the conference room," He nodded in the direction Alsiah had come from and he looked at her mournfully before hesitantly adding. "You may want to consider seeing her." She nodded numbly, her fingers gently tracing the contour of the belt loop on her jeans, "That would most likely be best."

Grace smiled weakly at her, gaining a similar expression in response before Alsiah turned toward the conference room.
        "I think I may go to sleep, if that's alright?" Graces attention had shifted to the wooden floor beneath her feet, which was dusty and lifting slightly from age. Mason worriedly glanced in Alsiahs direction, although she had already departed into the room to confront Emili, "Of course. I'm down the hall, so just holler if you need anything." "Thanks," Her whisper was barely audible, although it would have to suffice for the time being.

She rapidly walked toward the bedroom, slowly opening the door to avoid the creaking protest of its chromatic hinges. The mattress was flimsy and battered. Finding a comfortable position without waking Jace appeared to be impossible, but she eventually settled for her knees pressed against her chest and her arms being pinned to the frigid wall.

Graces eyes were weighted from her fatigue, although the walls around her were thin and she could hear the wails that relentlessly tore Emili apart. The gentle hum of words dribbling from Alsiahs voice as she attempted to comfort her friend removed the raw bitterness of the sound, but the sadness continued to be clearly evident.

Tears gradually soaked her pillow and Grace wearily craned her neck to observe Jaces peaceful slumber. In the shadows that the lack of lighting provided he looked astoundingly similar to Connor. With the small glasses placed on the small night stand beside him, she almost believed it could have been Connor. Regardless of her painful exhaustion, Grace lay in bed staring at the roughly textured ceiling long after her vision blurred before she could be granted the luxury of unconsciousness.