The BennetsAs Ariana and Mrs. Bennett looked at each other, confusion flashed between them. They couldn't make sense of Ryan's reaction, why he was laughing, why it was getting louder, darker, more unhinged. He laughed harder and harder, as if the entire mess around him, the police, Monique, his mother, Ariana, was one grand joke he had just now understood.Then, suddenly, he stopped.The silence was deafening.Ryan straightened his spine, rolled his shoulders back, and took a steadying breath. He ran a hand down the front of his jacket, smoothing it with a calm precision, then dragged his fingers through his hair, adjusting every strand into place like he was preparing for a business meeting, not whatever this was.When he finally turned to his mother, his face was composed, unnervingly blank. "Mom," he said, voice smooth and calculated, "would you please excuse us for a few minutes?"Mrs. Bennett hesitated. Her body didn't move at first; something in her told her not to go. Ariana
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