“Buffy, come to dinner!”

They sat in tense silence, all attention focused on their plates. The scrape of fork and knife were jarring, but any words now would just lead back to another argument, start another no win fight. She remembered when they could linger over a meal for hours, just talking about what happened that day, what they were planning for tomorrow.

“I’m heading out, I’ll be home by curfew!”

She checked her watch as the door closed behind Buffy – 7 minutes.

“Hank. I can’t go on like this.” Hank set down his fork. “We have to tell Buffy.”