“Everything’s fine, Odalys,” she stammered, wiping her forehead with the back of her wrist.

“Corinna just asked me to get the roast on and run a load of Dashiell’s laundry, that’s all.

I’m nearly done.

It’s fine.”

The flinch, and the apology, told me more than the sweat and the gray face did.

Because I knew where they came from.