CALEB I knock twice on Ashley's bedroom door, then push the door open, stepping inside casually. As I enter, my eyes immediately lands on Ashley. She's lying stomach flat on the bed, her elbows pressed into the sheets, supporting her body. She is holding her sketchpad, her pencil hovering around the page. Her headphones is covering her ears as she stares at the sketch page she's currently on. “Ash,” I call, but there's no response from her, or a movement to acknowledge she knows I'm here. “Ash,” I call again, my voice louder this time. She finally looks up, quickly taking off her headphones. The moment she realises that it's me, she swiftly flips the book over, face down on the bed. I pause, stepping closer. I don't ask about what that movement was about. She might not tell me anyways. For the past week, she has been talking to me less or even trying to get close to me unlike before. “Ash, it's time for lunch,” I say, my gaze flickering to the sketchpad lying on the bed. “Dad
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