"Me, too," Frank admits softly in return, eyes going to either one of their faces as they both sit with him. Seldom, David and himself might eat dinner together. Here, Kamala and he had made more of a ritual of it. But the addition of Jess is more jarring than he anticipated, a memory cutting in deep of sitting at his family's table that night before burning the place down, of asking Karen if their dishes ever made it to the sink. He breathes through it and even musters a tiny smile for the moment, though of course, it doesn't match his tired gaze.
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