Waverly descended the staircase after an hour, making her way into the kitchen. The house was silent, besides the sound of the fridge door closing. As she rounded the corner, she saw Sawyer standing behind the island, alone.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, somewhat disoriented. Her eyes were reddened, and she sniffled after she spoke.
“Outside,” Sawyer answered promptly, not providing further information. “Are you alright?”
Waverly shrugged and laughed a little as she sat on the bar stool at the island. “Are any of us okay these days?”
Sawyer opened the pack of pasta in his hand and put it in the pot of boiling water. “I meant with your own health, Waverly,” he said rather seriously. He turned the dial down on the stovetop and faced her, slinging the cloth over his shoulder. “You weren’t well to begin with, and this added stress could make matters worse. I’m surprised no one has said anything.”