"Brother," Luca said solemnly, brows furrowed in quiet alarm, "I think you have the drums, too."
Ollie paled.
The color drained from his face so fast it might've been pulled out by a vacuum.
"What?! I-I have what?!"
The hall went silent.
Or it would have, if not for the scraping of utensils overpowering the sounds of slurping.
See, the morning had started as most post-crisis mornings did. With evacuation protocols still in place, everyone had been told to remain in the main hall until the building inspections were completed. Meanwhile, DG did what DG always did best during tense moments.
They had breakfast.
The milk was fresh. The eggs were golden and steaming. Even the fruit was peeled with a precision that suggested the presence of either advanced robots or a terrifyingly devoted husband.
