Silence was like a blanket surrounding the Brooker family dinner table, not even the noise of cutlery on china dared break the silence.
Breece could feel the stares of both his parents on his face but he refused to look up from his steak he hadn't yet touched.
Richard Brooker, Breece's dad and mayor of Sculven, cleared his threat and stated bluntly, "What happened to your face?"

"Rich!" Julia Brooker, Breese's mum scolded her husband, knowing Breece was touchy about being beaten up from past times Breece had come home with bruises.

Breece hated the fact that he couldn't take on Cent and his gang.

"Julia, he comes home like this all the time! No one should be able to pick on my son and get away with it! I will not have it!"

"Dad, seriously, its fine."

"No it's not! Tell me who it is! Is it the Carl Bug kid?

Breece sighed, "His names Cent Berg, dad."

"Ha! So it is him! I knew it! Didn't I say that Julia? I told you it would be him and I was right!"

Groaning, Breece got up from the mahogany table, leaving his food untouched. "No dad, don't worry about it. I'm going to bed, goodnight."

His parents watched him in silence as he walked out of the dining room.

Breece wasn't upset, he had to much going on in his mind to be upset.
Like the fact that if Oliver really could get his hands on his uncle Travis' journal, and it did hold the way to the graves, there parents would never let them go anyway. Or the fact that he would have to borrow some money from his dads coin sack for the purchase of backpacks and other needed supplies.

Breece found himself wondering what Ava was doing right now. Was she at home? Was she with her family at dinner? Was she thinking of him? His cheeks reddened at his last thought.
He didn't know much about Ava's home situation, she never really speaks of her home, or her family.

Breece entered his small bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed, removing his boots before laying back on the soft silk sheets, staring at the ceiling.

Reaching over, he flicked of the electric lamp and rapped himself in the blankets. Closing his eyes he drifted out of consciousness and into the blackened visions of sleep.