He bit into the muffin and didn’t look at me.

“It’s totally fine,” I said.

“I’ll clean up the flour.”

Margaret picked up a damp rag and wiped off the butcher block.

She didn’t say another word.

At ten o’clock we went into the living room.

Morning sunlight poured through the tall windows and warmed the brown leather couch.

Vanessa sat beside Ethan.