paper spilling out like little flags of victory.
His mother reclined on the sofa in a silk robe. Brooke sat beside her with her feet tucked under her. Kelsey was filming a short video of the dessert table. Ava scrolled on her phone, barefoot, one toe tapping the edge of a box.
Patricia looked up first. ‘You’re home early.’
There was no pleasure in her voice. Only surprise.
Daniel set the bakery box on the entry table. ‘Meeting ended. Where’s Nora?’
Brooke did not look at him. ‘Kitchen.’
‘Why?’
Kelsey laughed lightly. ‘Because that’s where dishes live.’
Ava snorted.
Patricia lifted one hand. ‘Don’t start, Daniel. You’re tired, and she has had an emotional day.’
Daniel’s eyes moved from face to face. Nobody looked guilty. That disturbed him more than guilt would have.
He walked down the hallway.
The house changed as he moved away from the living room. The music dimmed. The warm light disappeared. The dining room was a wreck of plates, napkins, smeared frosting, used glasses, and crumpled receipts. A chair lay crooked against the wall as if someone had pushed away from the table in a hurry.
Then he heard the scrape of a bucket.
In the kitchen, Nora was kneeling beside the island.
Her hair had come loose from its clip. A damp strand stuck to her cheek. The hem of her maternity dress was wet. So were her slippers. A yellow cleaning glove hung torn near the sink. The trash bag beside her had split, and food scraps had spilled onto the floor.
She turned when she sensed him.
For one bare second, relief passed across her face.
Then fear swallowed it.
Daniel forgot how to breathe.
‘Nora,’ he said.
She tried to stand quickly, as if she had been caught doing something wrong. Pain bent her forward. Daniel dropped his bag and crossed the room.
‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Stay there. I’ve got you.’
He reached for her arm and felt how cold her skin was.
That was when Ava shouted for the plates.
Nora closed her eyes.
Daniel turned toward the sound.
‘Stay here,’ he said softly.
Nora’s fingers tightened around his wrist. ‘Daniel, please don’t fight.’
The words were not a plea for peace.
They were a warning born from practice.
He walked back into the living room.
The first thing he did was turn off the television.
The sudden silence made everyone look at him.
‘What did Nora do?’ he asked.
Patricia’s expression hardened. ‘Lower your voice.’
‘I asked a question.’
Brooke sighed. ‘She’s fine. She dropped a tray earlier and made a huge scene. Mom’s friend was here. It was humiliating.’
‘So you made her clean on her knees?’
Kelsey put down her phone. ‘Nobody made her. She lives here. She should contribute.’
‘She is eight months pregnant.’
Ava rolled her eyes. ‘Pregnant women can wash dishes, Daniel. You act like she’s made of glass.’
Daniel looked at his youngest sister, the one whose tuition he paid, whose car insurance he covered, whose emergencies always came with tears and no receipts. She stared back with the confidence of someone who had never been allowed to fall.
‘You called her from the living room like staff,’ he said.
Ava’s face reddened. ‘It was a joke.’
‘No,’ Daniel said. ‘It wasn’t.’
Patricia
