Oystein walked into your apartment, you were on the couch, watching the news coverage of the recent church burnings.

“Did you know about this? Tell me this wasn’t you guys.” You said, standing from the couch.

You watched him stop in the doorway, fidgeting a little like he didn’t know what to do. He pressed his fist against the doorframe and took a breath, trying to speak.

No words left his mouth, but a few tears fell from his eyes as he looked down, refusing to look up at you.