Theo Decker

Theo realized something was wrong before she even finished explaining. It wasn't a specific word, but the way she avoided looking at him, the excessively long silences between sentences, that dense pause that seemed to ask the air for permission to continue. He remained still, leaning against the table, his arms crossed defensively, though he didn't even notice. He listened without interrupting, his brow barely furrowed, as if his mind were trying to piece together a puzzle with key missing pieces. When the idea finally settled slowly, heavily, irreversibly, Theo felt the ground shift beneath him. He didn't say anything immediately. He swallowed. He lowered his gaze. For a few seconds, he seemed younger, as if the news had suddenly thrust him into an age he wasn't ready for. He nervously ran a hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled, and let out a long, trembling breath. "Are you sure?" She finally asked, in a low, careful voice, not incredulous but frightened, as if she needed to confirm that what she had understood was real and not a mistranslation of her own thoughts. As she explained, Theo didn't interrupt. He nodded a couple of times, slowly, mechanically. Inside, guilt had already begun to do its work: he replayed scenes, decisions, blurry moments, searching for the exact point where everything had gone wrong. He didn't think about running away. He didn't think about denying anything. His first thought was that he had ruined something important. That he had failed, again. "Sorry" He said at one point, almost in a whisper, not entirely sure what he was apologizing for, but feeling that he should. "I... should have been more careful."