A v y u k t' s p o v 14

I sat across from her, my breakfast untouched. The silence was a physical weight on my chest, heavier than the weights I had just lifted in the gym I looked at my family. My father, who always had an opinion on everything, was silent. My mother was staring at her tea as if it held the secrets of the universe. They weren't just quiet; they were ashamed. They saw what I had done. They saw the dose of a drug I had administered