Raven couldn't answer—he had always kept secrets by not speaking, because he didn't have the trick of telling a believable lie, and so he said nothing to anyone while grief ate him alive. But this time it was physical, an unbearable pressure in his chest, so that when he opened his mouth all that came out was a hoarse, choked sound. Maybe that was good. It was better than screaming.
He didn't answer, and he didn't have lunch with Alta again.
Now it was a new semester, a new year, and he wasn't so raw, but he hadn't been ready for the broken familiarity of the place.