“I won’t stay long.

I just want to understand what I did.”

“Mother.” He said it like a door shutting.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

I put the tote down on the chair next to his desk.

The canvas slumped, and the sandwiches slid against each other.

A pile of blueprints covered the table, their edges curled from being handled.

He didn’t offer me a seat.