"Excited?" She echoed, her eyes narrowing, her heart racing with a anticipation and unease. "What do you mean, Kafi? Over happy? What's so suspicious about that?" Her question was careful, her gaze searching his, sensing the shift in his tone, the hidden meaning behind his words.
Kafka gave a nervous chuckle, his hand rubbing his neck again, his voice a low, embarrassed murmur.
"Don't laugh at me, okay?" He said, his eyes flicking to hers, pleading. "Promise you won't make fun of me for this, Mom." Olivia nodded frantically, her eyes wide, her hands clutching his arm, her eagerness palpable, and Kafka sighed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Look down, Mom. Look at down, and you'll see what I mean by over excited."
Olivia's brow furrowed, her confusion deepening as she glanced to her left, her eyes scanning the floor beneath the chair, finding nothing.
"What?" She mumbled, her voice puzzled, her gaze flicking back to him. "There's nothing there, Kafi."
